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#I HAVE BEEN TURNING THIS FIC IN MY MIND ALL NIGHT
snowyquokka · 23 hours
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Hey I saw that you wanted ideas for some angst, thought I would shoot my shot. What if one of or all of them idk you choose the boys calls reader clingy and reader gets insecure about it. It's okay if you don't feel like it tho. Take care of yourself and drink lot's of water❤️❤️ I'm new to your blog but I really love your work hope to see more of it in the future❤️❤️❤️
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CLINGY
cw - non idol!minho x gn!reader, angst (😈), swearing, fluffy ending, hurt comfort kinda
wc- 1.1k
a.n - IT’S DONE !! i am exhausted but hey it’s out 😭😭 anyway i’m sorry for being a bit MIA lately, i’ve been having a bit of a rough time but it’s getting better. i’m not sure if i like this piece or not tho :((( I LOVE YOU MUAH <3
AND I JUST REALIZED THIS IS MY FIRST LINO FIC OMG THIS IS A MOMENT IN HISTORY
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All day, the silence in the house seemed to echo with Minho's absence, each tick of the clock stretching the worry tighter across your mind. The morning had started off on the wrong foot, with Minho oversleeping- a rare occurrence which in turn threw off his whole routine. The rushed breakfast, the hasty goodbye—everything felt off-kilter. It was unlike him to be late, especially for his job at the veterinary clinic, a place he often described as his second home, where he could merge his passion for animals with his skills in care and healing. The hurried departure left a cold space in the wake of his frantic energy.
The argument from the night before added layers to your concern. It was one of those disagreements that seemed trivial in the light of day, yet in the shadow of the night, it had grown into a monumental barrier between you two. It wasn't just the words exchanged or the silence that followed, but the unresolved tension that lingered, making the air heavy with unsaid apologies and unexpressed affections. The fact that Minho had been irritable even before the argument didn't help, it only amplified the discomfort, casting a shadow over his usual bright demeanor.
As the day dragged on, you found yourself glancing at the clock, counting the hours until Minho's return. The thought of him dealing with the stress of work on top of everything else weighed heavily on you as guilt settled in. It wasn't just the worry for his mental state, but also the longing for reconciliation. You knew the importance of mending the rift, of clearing the air with conversations that bridged the gap between hurt and healing. The thought of him walking through the door, the opportunity to start anew, to offer a smile as a peace offering, became a beacon of hope in the slow march of the day. But as you continue to relive the argument you can’t help the pang of sorrow that strikes your heart like lighting, complimenting the storm of emotions whirling about your being. 
The dispute sparked when you casually asked him about his day. To you, it was a simple question, but Minho perceived it as intrusive, deeming you "too clingy" and expressing his exhaustion with what he viewed as your constant nagging.Since then you’ve been running yourself into the ground trying to get as much stuff around the house as you can. If Minho comes home to a clean house, you think, then there’ll be one less reason for him to be irritated with you. 
The sound of keys jingling faintly outside the door interrupts your thoughts. You had just finished cooking dinner and were plating it just in time as Minho to strolls in. 
“Mm,“ he hums in approval as he wraps his long arms around your waist, gently tugging your back to his front. He rests his chin on your shoulder as he speaks, “Smells good, baby. Thank you.” You hum and nod, not sure what to do. He was just complaining about you being clingy but here he is, swaying you side-to-side. Minho clearly sensed your apprehension and pulled back with a sigh. “Why am I getting the silent treatment?” 
You aren’t sure how to respond to that. You weren’t purposefully trying to ignore him, you’re just confused and you don’t know how to voice that. “I’m not giving you the silent treatment,” you turn around towards him and lean back against the kitchen island, using your hands to brace yourself.
Minho hums and folds his arms over his chest. He raises a brow, wanting you to continue. You huff and tip your head back for a moment before looking directly at him. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to come off too clingy.” Your tone came off a little harsher than you’d planned and you watch as his expression shifts into something more serious, guilty even.
“Shit, baby I- I didn’t mean it, you know that. I shouldn’t have said it and-” You shake your head, effectively cutting him off. 
“It’s fine, I’m fine. It’s just-” 
His eyes begin to soften as he inches back into your space. “Hey. Hey,” Minho murmurs as his hands find purchase on your shoulders in an attempt to provide at least some semblance of comfort. He’s always been the type to have some sort of contact when talking to you like this. It makes it feel more personal, more sincere, especially when he ends up apologizing. “Don’t do that, you know I hate it. I’m the one who should be sorry, okay? I’m sorry, I was just stressed and I know that isn’t an excuse.”
“I shouldn’t have pushed you, I made you upset.” 
Minho shakes his head. “I want you to ask about my day, I want you to show that you care. It makes me feel important. You make me feel important.” You pull your lip in between your teeth, a nervous habit you picked up as a child. 
"Are you sure? Because I will-" Minho clicks his tongue and leans his forehead against yours, his brown eyes sparkling.
"I never want you to feel insecure about anything I say, regardless of what it is. I understand I can be hot-headed, and I'm working to fix that, but I want you- I need you- to tell me when I’m doing something that’s upsetting you. I love you and I promise you I didn’t mean any of it.” He presses a soft, chaste kiss on the tip of your nose with a smile. The action makes your stomach erupt with butterflies and you know everything will be okay. You’ll always bounce back and find your way back to each other. 
Minho looks down and locks his pinkys around yours before looking back up at you. “You okay now?” You nod and lean against him further with a content sigh. 
“I love you too, Min.” Minho begins to open his mouth to say something but you beat him to it. 
“Even if you’re a dick sometimes.” You say with amusement laced in your tone and a grin.
“I guess I’m lucky you put up with me then.” 
“Now you’re getting it,”
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tags: @godslino @seungseung-minmin @myseungsunglove @azuna-sz @kaiyaba @solisyeah
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pomefioredove · 1 day
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You know what would be sad? If you/Yuu breaks up with Vil (or vice versa) and then runs to Rook afterwards. I wonder if Vil is going to feel betrayed again? If you could do a little scenario for this, that’d be great!
this is such a good prompt, I love rebound scenarios omg. needed this today. and here comes rook with the steel chair!!!
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summary: getting dumped by vil schoenheit type of post: long fic characters: rook additional info: romantic, established relationship, vil breaks up with reader, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, kinda angsty, hahhhh, my god
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"It's not personal. I just don't think it's fair to you," Vil says.
He doesn't fidget. Maintains perfect eye contact. He doesn't even try to act sorry, which, perhaps, is what stings the most.
He's supposed to be an actor, after all.
That's what this is all about.
"You must have always known this was a possibility," he says. "My schedule is getting busier, I simply don't... want to push you away."
Each word is spoken with a honeyed softness, as if he's trying to cushion the blows. It doesn't help.
Your heart thuds in your chest, your eyes burn. This is the worst thing you've ever experienced. You would take a thousand overblots over this. Any day.
What a bitter sentiment.
"You don't mean to push me away. What is this, then?"
A look of guilt finally crosses Vil's face, cracking the mask of professionalism he'd been hiding behind. It offers little comfort.
His brow furrows, and he sighs. "A preventative measure. It would hurt more if I'd waited,"
A million questions fly through your mind, faster than you can catch them. You want to shout, to tell him exactly how he's making you feel, to ask him who he thinks he is- but all you can manage is a stare.
He frowns, extending a hand as if to caress your face, but you turn on your heels and leave before he has the chance.
You wouldn't sit there and let him make a fool of you any longer.
You had become comfortable with the Pomefiore dorm in the past few months, but today, its elegance feels suffocating. The white and gold decor seems to mock you, every vase of perfect flowers laughing at your imperfection as you pass them by.
It hurts.
Stings, burns, makes you feel like you're drowning in a sea of perfume, choking on lilac and rose. Has the air here always been so sickeningly sweet?
There's still a lingering part of you that wants to run back to him, to beg, to negotiate, but you know he's right. You hate that he's right.
This... whatever it was... wouldn't last.
And you'd always known it.
---
How does one recover from being dumped by Vil Schoenheit?
Short answer: you can't.
You can wallow all you want, drowning yourself in the unhealthy foods he forbade you from eating, skipping the classes he'd so encouraged you to excel in, and using cheap tissues on your formerly-perfect skin, but that doesn't change a thing.
Perhaps if it hadn't been so public, you might have pulled yourself together sooner. But the very second all of your pictures were gone from his profile, everyone knew.
On some nights, you'd torture yourself by reading the thirsty comments from desperate fans under his latest posts, all of them pointing out his recent singleness. You would wonder to yourself if you had sounded that pathetic when you were dating Vil.
Just another hopeless, desperate fan, hoping for a piece of him.
People on campus avoided you. Not out of fear, but pity, a lack of knowing what to say. How do you even comfort someone after this?
It was like having an open wound on full display. No matter how you tried to bandage it, it kept bleeding through.
Even Grim was keeping his distance.
What little comfort came in the form of an anonymous knight in shining armor. Roses left at your doorstep, letters of love and encouragement on your assigned seats, little baskets full of your favorite foods and trinkets on your kitchen table...
You would have questioned it if you were not so consumed by your grief. At least the mystery offered a distraction.
"Another one," Ace comments, pulling a letter off your chair before you can sit on it. "Whoever this guy is, he's slick."
He hands you the letter, which you gracefully accept.
Deuce watches cautiously. "And you're sure it's not just... some kinda of prank, right? I've known my fair share of nasty types, this could be a trick."
"Too much effort," you shake your head. "I mean, whoever this is is spending a lot of time and money cheering me up. Not to mention... I've tried looking up some of these poems, and no matches. They're originals."
You wave around the letter in hand, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Though, I'm sure whoever's doing it is just being nice,"
"Nice. Right," Ace rolls his eyes. "Cause I know like, a million teenage boys who are just dying to write poetry for their friends."
Even Deuce snickers at that. You roll your eyes.
"Point taken. I guess I just can't believe that anyone would want me after..." you pause. There's no pleasant way to put it, so you let Ace and Deuce fill in the blanks.
"Hey, Vil is a jerk. He doesn't deserve you," Deuce says. "And trust me, if I ever catch him disrespecting you again-"
Ace scoffs. "Woah, there, tiger. Calm down. Vil could kick your ass and we all know it,"
"He really was something, wasn't he?" you sigh, slumping in your seat. Ace and Deuce give each other a panicked look.
"We didn't mean-"
"No, I get it," you say, reaching down to the floor in an attempt to touch your toes. Vil had told you that little exercises help calm the nerves. You hate how you still need his advice.
"Oh, hey, look," you sit back up, another pink envelope in hand. "Another one."
---
There's something about these gifts that doesn't sit right with you.
Each one is arranged to perfection, obviously crafted by a very thoughtful individual, just personal enough to suit your tastes but distant all the same.
It's almost as if the sender is holding something back.
But, not today.
You're greeted by a trail of rose petals leading up to Ramshackle's front door, which itself is ajar. Not uncommon, considering Grim's inability to take care of the makeshift dorm, but with the scent of roses and the candlelight inside, you know it's something more.
You walk in, setting your things aside, and continue following the path of petals into the kitchen, where a rickety wooden table has been set for two.
You, however, are the only one in the room.
"Hello?" you ask, turning in circles. The space is empty, save for a small letter on one of the chairs.
Beautiful,
A little bird told me you doubt the intentions of my admiration. I must amend that immediately, and I see no better way than to say it myself.
Yours truly.
"Trickster," a familiar voice comes from the doorway behind you, and you whirl around to face your admirer.
"Rook!" you gasp, clutching the letter to your chest.
He beams in response. "Oui, c'est moi. Though I was so enjoying the mystery, I feel it's time I made my intentions clear. Sit, please,"
You don't hesitate to follow his suggestion (the surprise left your knees feeling weak, anyway), and he joins you in the adjacent seat.
"But what-"
"Please," he says, holding a finger to your lips to shush you. "Let me start. I first want to say that I have meant every single word, in song and ink, that I have given to you. My heart is true."
Your mind is overflowing with questions, none of which he seems keen on answering in full just yet.
"I have spent the past several months allowing our Beautiful Vil to woo you. I have so enjoyed watching your love blossom from afar, despite my own feelings towards you. But things have changed," Rook says.
"For as much as I love him, this was his own doing. He has made a fatal mistake, one which cannot be undone- he has wounded you, mon amour, in a most vulnerable fashion. Months ago, when we both realized our feelings for you, I willingly stepped aside," he says. "I thought Vil would be the best option for you. I thought I was not ready to commit myself. Now I see what a mistake that was, and I hope you might find it within yourself to forgive me..."
You can only stare back. "Rook..."
"I cannot resent our Roi du Poison for his choice, for it's his to make. But he hurt you dearly, and in the process, he has relinquished his claim on you. I know your wound is still fresh. But, please, Mon Trickster, mon véritable amour, be mine?"
You're silent for a moment, processing every detail of what he said, what he's offering...
He's right. The wound Vil created is still open, and despite the weeks of "recovery", had yet to improve.
If you kept waiting for it to heal, perhaps it never would.
You nod. "Okay. Okay! But-! Let's take it slow, okay?"
Rook just barely manages to stop himself from leaping across the table to take your hands into his, and he reaffirms your request with a nod.
"Of course, mon cœur. What is a hunter if not patient?"
---
Pomefiore is beautiful again.
There are still times where you swear you can see Vil staring at the two of you, a look of discontent on his face, from across the room.
He doesn't utter a word about the way Rook has his arm over your shoulder, or the many terms of endearment he uses on you, though he doesn't have to. The lingering guilt and regret has made a home for itself in Vil Schoenheit.
You're sure Rook has noticed by now, too, although this isn't the first time he's pulled something like this on the housewarden without a second thought, and it likely won't be the last.
Perhaps it's for the better.
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the girl next door 19
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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You stare straight ahead, to humiliated to look at the man next to you. You haven't since you woke up. 
You wallow in confusion, trying to piece together the void in your mind. It's all blank after the shower. No matter how much you try, it just makes your head hurt. 
"You didn't eat much. You feeling okay?" He breaks the silence as he comes in view of the hospital. 
"Yeah, not very hungry," you murmur.  
"You know, I read the insert with the pills, that's one of the side effects. Plus it can really knock you on your butt. Must be what happened last night." 
"Please," you beg; just the mention has you squirming. 
"And fatigue can be a symptom of depression so that might also be why--" 
"I'm sorry," you hide your face in your hands, "I don't remember. I don't want to talk about it." 
"I told you, sweetie," he slows and finds a spot among the lot, "we just slept, alright? I just wanted to keep an eye on you otherwise I would've let you have the bed." 
You curl your fingers and dig them into your eye sockets. He doesn't get it. She doesn't hate him. 
"Please," you sniffle and sit up, "don't tell my mom.' 
"Don't tell--" he hits the button to kill the engine and unbuckles his seat belt, "there's nothing to tell, right?" 
"Yeah, but if... if she thought..." you stammer as you swipe away a glimmer of tears, "she's sick. I don't wanna m-make it worse." 
"Alright, sweetie," he reaches between the seats and squeezes your shoulders, "it can be our little secret." 
You nod a gulp. Your chest racks with the air trapped inside. He lets his hand brush down your arm. 
"Sweetie, it's okay. I'm going to take care of you. You and your mom," he retracts his touch, "now let's go say good morning." 
You undo your belt and get out as he opens the back door. He takes out the balloon and flowers he stopped to pick up on the way. He had you sign the card but your mom will know it wasn't your idea. You're too stupid to think of that. 
You offer to help but he waves you off. You go through the visitor's entrance and up the elevator. He approaches the nurses' station and greets them easily. He makes you feel worse for how sure he is of himself. The world isn't scary to him. The world doesn't mind him being there. 
As you get to your mother's room, you stop short. He nearly collides with your back and he chuckles. 
"Here, honey, you take the flowers," he offers the bouquet, "she's going to love them." 
You turn and take them without argument. They're your only defense. You enter slowly and Steve follows. 
"Morning, honey," he chimes past you, "surprise!" 
"Emf, Steve?" She gurgles as she turns her head one way then the other, "oh, Steve, you're here." 
"Just like we promised," he goes to her and kisses her forehead then gives her the card, tying the balloon to the bed rail. "Brought some flowers." 
"Shouldn't have done all that," she's back to her act, smiling for him as she sits up with an exaggerated effort, "I'll be coming home." 
"I know, just wanted to brighten your day," he shrugs, "we were real worried. Both of us." 
Your mother's eyes skim in your direction and narrow, "she didn't give ya too much trouble, did she?" 
"She's perfect, hon," he assures. "Really, she's been a lot of help. I was in a state and she took good care of me." 
"She did?" She wonders.  
You try not to react. He's lying but you wouldn't want him to tell the truth. You just keep your mouth shut and come forward to offer the flowers. 
"Here," you say, "love you, mom." 
She takes them with a brittle silence then quickly resumes her preening, looking at Steve as she inhales the scent, "oh, so lovely." She lowers them and rests them on her lap, "you didn't happen to bring coffee? I'm dying for a cup." 
"Ah, gee, you know, it slipped my mind," Steve says, "guess there were bigger things." 
"I'll... I'll go to the cafeteria and get some," you offer and feel around your pockets. You forgot your change purse. Shoot. "Erm..." 
"Here," Steve reaches in his back pocket, "it's on me. If you can grab me an orange juice and something for yourself. Thanks, kiddo." 
He hands you a folded twenty from his wallet. You take it reluctantly and glance at your mom. Her eye twitches but she keeps a placid expression. You turn to leave as she quickly forgets you. 
“I missed you so much,” she whines. 
“I know, honey, but we should talk...” 
Those words chase you out the door and prickle the hair along your neck. What are they talking about? He said he wouldn’t tell her. 
You can barely see straight as you walk the halls, losing yourself several times before getting to the elevators. When at last you’ve reached the cafeteria, you struggle to remember what you’re there for. You grab the coffee and an orange juice and pay, keeping the change clutched tight. 
You head back up, lightheaded from the motion of the elevator, and float through the halls, unseen and unbothered by the bodies around you. You feel invisible. Sometimes, you wonder if you’re even a part of the same world. 
You stop outside your mom’s room, the door open. 
“Steve, it’s a lot...” she mutters gloomily. 
“Trust me, Holly, alright?” 
You cough and step through. You put the coffee on the table near your mother’s bed and turn to offer Steve his juice and change. He accepts them as they both stay quiet, almost as if they’re not telling you something. 
“Thanks, kiddo,” he speaks at last and tucks the money away, “you didn’t get anything?” 
“No, it’s okay.” 
You glance at your mother, expecting a gripe. ‘Good you don’t want her spending all your money’. She just reaches for the coffee, a tick in her cheek as she finds no sugar or cream with it. Another mess up.  
“Well, I’ll go get the doctor, have him check you out and see if you’re ready to go,” Steve claps his hands. 
“Sure,” your mother hums and pops the lid off her coffee, “you’re a life saver, honey.” 
Steve drives you and your mother home, a layer of exhaustion settling around all of you. You don’t think your mother got very much sleep at the hospital and your own did little to nip away at your constant sluggishness. Even Steve yawns as he pulls onto the avenue and pulls into your mother’s driveway. 
You get out as he helps your mother from the front seat. You trail them up the porch and skirt around to open the door. Even as you try to be helpful, you feel like you’re in the way. 
Your mother’s hand is shaking pretty bad as Steve gets her into the recliner. You watch from the archway and wring your hands. It feels like forever since you’ve been home. The break in routine has you restless. 
“I’ll stick around for a bit but I got a buddy stopping by later. I’ve been putting it off and he’s starting to get pushy,” he explains, “but you can always call me. Kiddo,” he stands straight, hands on his hips, “you got my number? So you can text.” 
“I don’t have a phone,” you frown. 
“I’ll call ya,” your mother insists over you.  
“Okay, well, I’ll make you something to eat before I head out. Did they give you your meds at the hospital?” He asks. 
You see your mom hesitate. She’s never been one to be coddled. She always told you to back off but with him, she can’t break the facade. Her cheek ticks and she flutters her lashes, her tremour worsening. 
“Oh, Steve, I don’t feel so well. Do you have to go?” She moans. 
“Honey, did you take your meds?” He repeats more firmly. 
“Ugh, yes, okay?” She huffs and drops back on the recliner. “You don’t have to remind me I’m sick.” 
Steve crosses his arms and tilts his head, “I’m making sure you don’t get worse. Don’t talk to me like that.” 
“I’m sorry,” she heaves and hides behind her hand, “I’m so stressed and it’s just... horrible to not be able to stuff on your own.” 
“Doesn’t mean you get to take it out on everyone else,” he reprimands. He sounds mad. You’ve never heard him like that. “Look, I gotta get moving around here. You think about what we talked about.” He turns and winces as he sees you, almost like he forgot you. “Kiddo, why don’t you go chill out? It’s been a long morning.” 
You nod and quickly retreat, thankful for the opportunity to be alone. 
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lokisprettygirl · 3 days
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Rain to his Fire (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon 80s Au) (18+)
Read chapter 3 here // Series Masterlist
Chapter 4
Summary: Things heat up between you and Daemon.
Warning: 18+, smutty scenarios, crude language, discussion of mental health (it's a fic based in a mental health facility), mention of physical assault, the fic would contain several mentions of several disorders like mpd, did etc, if something triggers you don't read, smoking.
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“American avocet…nope” you mumbled under your breath as you flipped through the pages of the book All birds in the world. You often didn't find yourself in a library so this was new for you as well. You were trying to match the feathers Daemon had given you with an existing bird but so far you had failed to accomplish your goal, and not to forget that you were still hung up on the letter A and it would take weeks to finish researching the book.
At first, the thought of simply asking Daemon what type of bird the feather belonged to had crossed your mind. But then you remembered that he believed himself to be a dragon, and he'd continue to claim that the feathers belonged to him.
You folded the corner of the book to bookmark the page as you didn't want to lose the progress, then you got up and placed the book back on its designated shelf.
As you approached the librarian Corlys he gave you a small smile and you couldn't help but feel sheepish.
“Finished reading?” He asked you so you chuckled, Corlys knew your mother really well, most of the older employees did so he was really always kind and warm to you.
“Ummm can I ask you a question?” You asked him with a tinge of hesitation so he looked at you curiously, his brows raised in anticipation.
“Of Course..anytime dear”
“Uhhh you have been around here for decades so I was wondering if you knew anything about this area habituating exotic birds around here because I found this feather on my window and it made me curious” you gave him the black streaked feather Daemon had offered to you as an apology, of course you didn't tell Corlys the truth. For some reason you didn't want to show him the pure silver one he had placed in your palm last night, it just seemed too precious.
“Let me see” he mumbled under his breath as he pulled up his glasses to inspect the feather and you could tell he was confused,
“I would have said that it resembles a pelican but you won't find them here, besides it's too large to be a pelican's. Are you positive that it's a genuine feather and not a decorative item?”
He asked you and you didn't really have an answer for that because honest to god you didn't even know where the feather had come from or if it was genuine or not.
“You can buy these in shops?” you asked him with a puzzled look on your face so he smiled.
“You can buy anything these days” you nodded as he said that before you mumbled a good day to him and stepped out of the Library.
As you entered your room, the first thing you did was open your drawer to look at the silver feather again. It was soft to the touch and didn't feel fake at all. You couldn't stop thinking about Daemon and his mysterious ways. You felt like he was messing with you and must have bought these feathers to add to his mysterious image. Why didn't you think of this in the first place? Perhaps a part of you just wanted to believe that he was something special, something that was too good to be true.
It was your day off so you hadn't really seen him all day, not even a glimpse. After what he had done last night and as much as you had enjoyed him touching you like that, you were afraid he'd make a habit out of it. So when you laid down in bed at night, your ears remained perked for any sign of movement outside your door but fortunately you didn't hear anything.
And unfortunately it did make you feel a bit disappointed.
As you entered Daemon's room the next morning, you noticed that he was still sleeping. Wanting to turn on a lamp, you reached around the bed and felt something under your feet. Looking down, you saw a pile of hair matching Daemon's hair color. At first, you thought he had cut his own hair, but then you realized that his hair was still the same length as it was yesterday. You were confused and couldn't understand where this hair had come from. It was long, at least 12 inches, which could easily be used to make a proper wig.
Every other day this man had something in his store to mess with your head.
You were in the middle of collecting the hair from the floor when you heard him roll around in the bed and turn on his back, as his eyes met with yours, he raised his non-existent eyebrows and gave you a smile.
“What is this?” You asked him as you picked up a lock of the hair so he rubbed his eyes,
“Well good morning to you as well lady” he mumbled in his groggy ‘I just woke up’ voice so you sighed and got back to cleaning.
“Don't get up if you're not wearing clothes underneath the sheet” you warned him so he chuckled in response.
“Yes mam, anything else?”
He asked you politely but your mind was still confused about the long silky beautiful hair you had found just now.
“What is it? Daemon? What is this?” You asked him again, agitation visible in your voice so he propped himself on his elbows and stared at you. You could see his abs flexing as he craned himself up but this wasn't the time for you to get distracted, there was no time to get distracted by a patient anyways.
"It's my hair... they grow longer when I am able to fully shift into my natural form which I did somehow last night. I have to cut them off with my own nails afterwards.” he mumbled as if he hadn't said the most unbelievable thing ever so you stared at him for a moment in complete disbelief. What were you expecting anyways?
“Okay ..why can't you just keep the hair, why do you have to cut it?” You asked him a follow up question instead of dismissing him like you had done previously so he smiled.
“It's a bit of a hassle..look at it” he told you nonchalantly.
“You're a weird man Mr. Daemon–” you mumbled in disbelief so he chuckled in response.
“Bonkers..innit?”
As you took the broom to the other side of the room you found a few more feathers and sighed. At this point, you had narrowed down the possibilities to two main scenarios. One theory was that he purchased these items beforehand and he was just playing a cruel prank on you. The other possibility was a lot more outrageous to consider. What if he really was a dragon or humagon or a Draman? That would explain the feathers, the hair, and so many other things that didn't quite add up.
But that was just crazy, right? You sighed and shook your head, trying to dismiss the thought from your mind.
Later on, Daemon was taken to see Doctor Lisa for their session. He couldn't believe that Vis had allowed it, but he had a feeling that the bastard was watching from the other side of the mirror. He was then escorted to the middle of the room and was told to sit. A guard cuffed his hands behind the chair while Doctor Lisa took a seat just a few feet away from him.
“You can leave Jacob” Lisa said to the guard so he nodded before he left the room to just two of them.
“So Daemon, good afternoon, how are you feeling?” She asked him as she gave him a warm smile so he chuckled in response.
“What is this, what's going on?” Daemon questioned her so she gave him a comforting smile again.
“You have been making good progress and I just wanted to speak with you about how you were feeling”
She mumbled politely so he looked at her up and down, his gaze intense, piercing into her soul as if he was trying to read her intentions.
“How am I feeling while I'm cuffed like a criminal? You tell me darling, how am I supposed to feel?” Daemon spoke, with a rough and husky tone, almost challenging her. His sharp eyes peered intensely at her, making her squirm in her seat, for a psychiatrist she sure seemed easy to manipulate.
“What's bothering you the most right now?” His lips puckered as she questioned him,
“Come closer and perhaps I'll humor you” he leaned forward to stare at her and she opened her mouth to say something but she felt at loss of words, there was something about him that made her speechless, the glint in his eyes made her uncomfortable but also drew her in..
“Doctor Vis told me that you have always had trouble with your sense of identity and-” before she could finish her sentence he had cut her off,
“Uhhuh when did he tell you that? While he had you bent over his desk this morning or???” he continued, his eyes flashing with anger. Lisa flinched at his words, taken aback by his sudden outburst.
“Daemon you're being inappropriate” she intervened but he cut her off immediately.
“Mmmm but I'm speaking the truth. Am I not? You're married but here you are fucking another man and at the same time so willing to spread your gorgeous legs for a patient sitting in front of you-”
He was amidst his contempt-filled speech when he was dragged up from his seat and punched right in the face but instead of cowering down he let out the sort of laughter that made Doctor Lisa scared. Quickly, Lisa grabbed onto Vis's arms, trying to calm him down as he stood over Daemon, his fists still clenched in anger.
“Let it be.. he's not well, it's not his fault” she said to him so Vis glared at him as he called in the guard to take him away.
“Everytime I think he's making progress he goes on and does something like this” Vis said as Daemon was taken away from the therapy room but Lisa seemed upset with Viserys instead. How did Daemon know of their affair?
“What? He must have seen the wedding ring and made a baseless assumption, that's what he does, he's very observant..always has been” Vis clarified to her but she was so furious that she walked away from him.
As you stepped out of room 390 after cleaning, you noticed Jacob dragging Daemon to his room. As they came closer you realized that his cheek was bleeding. What had he done now?
As soon as Jacob was gone, you looked around carefully before entering Daemon's room. He was already on the bed with a towel pressed against his bleeding cheek, his eyes closed and his body tensed up, clearly in pain.
“What happened?” You asked him as you approached him so he looked at you sharply. His eyes seemed dark and brooding, moments of such intensity always gave you a weird sensation in the pit of your stomach.
“Why do you care?” He asked you so you shrugged in response.
“Because you're bleeding and I'm concerned about your well being as a patient” you told him so he chuckled in response.
You watched in shock as Daemon got up from his bed, tossing the towel into the corner of the room before approaching you like a predator. Instinctively, you took a step back, your heart racing as you kept moving behind until you had hit the wall.
As Daemon reached closer to you, his fingers wrapped around your waist, and he placed his head between the crook of your neck. You could feel the blood from his cheek smearing against your skin, but that was the least of your concern. The proximity was affecting you in more ways than one, and you weren't sure how to react. You were on duty, after all, and it would have been inappropriate to touch him.
But then he seemed so hurt and distraught, his breathing heavy as he sniffed you constantly, you remembered him telling you that it was calming for him, your scent. What was this man made of? You had never met anyone as animalistic in his approach as Daemon was.
And to prove your point further he let out a purring noise as you curled your fingers around his neck and scratched his scalp. You had never heard a man purr like this, how was he doing it?
“Calm down..” you mumbled softly so he pulled away and glared at you as let out a small growling noise, using the sleeve of your cardigan you wiped the blood off his cheek before you grabbed his forearm.
“How can I be calm when my thoughts are filled with images of you in compromising positions” he smirked as he spoke so you rolled your eyes even though his words made you feel aroused.
“Come with me” You dragged Daemon by the arm as you led him out of his room and down the hallway. As you passed by the other patients and colleagues, you noticed their shocked expressions. You didn't care, though,he was hurt and in need of medical attention, you didn't care about whatever he had done to receive this treatment.
As you reached the clinic on the second floor the nurse took one look at him and made him sit down to patch up his wound.
“Are you hurt as well?” She asked you as she looked at the blood on your neck so you shook your head and asked for a medical wipe to clean the blood and you constantly felt his eyes on you, he kept staring at you and a part of you wanted him to look away, you didn't like it when he was looking at you like that as if he wanted to devour you whole.
Once he was patched up, you asked him to walk with you, it was lunchtime and you had to be in the cafeteria for your duties but on the way you bumped into Dr Vis instead and it instantly raised your blood pressure up, and definitely not in a good way.
“What is going on here if I may ask?” He questioned you, his voice strict and tone authoritative.
“The patient seemed wounded so I took him to the nursery” you answered him so he smiled but his smile never felt genuine, it never really reached his eyes, everytime you looked at him these days you felt a sense of foreboding wash over you.
“Where are you taking him now?” he asked as he crossed his arms behind his back like a school teacher.
“Cafeteria..it's lunch time for patients” he let out a small laughter as you answered him.
"No need for that. His lunch privileges are revoked for the day, and he will spend it gardening instead," Dr Vis declared, his tone firm and unrelenting. You looked at him in disbelief, not understanding why he was being punished so severely. "Once you have completed your duties, I want you to supervise him as he plants hundred hydrangea seeds in the back garden," Dr Vis ordered. "Any less than that and he will not be served dinner tonight," he warned, his eyes still locked on Daemon's as if he was taunting him
“Why me?” You asked him and that made him turn his head towards you
“Pardon me?” He glared at you so intensely that you didn't want to elaborate and question as to why he wanted you to watch him suffer when a guard could have done this job more appropriately.
“Nothing..I'll be free in an hour doctor” you mumbled politely so Doctor vis gave you a smile and watched you walk past him and Daemon..
“You really think I'd make your life easier while you're acting up?” He asked Daemon as he grabbed his arm to lead him to the back garden.
You turned to see Daemon one last time before he was escorted away, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of confusion and hurt. You took a deep breath and made your way to the cafeteria, feeling a sense of unease settle over you. You couldn't shake the feeling that punishing a man of that size for so many hours without food was cruel and not to mention extremely inhumane..
Once you were free of your duties, you went to the pantry and wrapped up a sandwich carefully before placing it into the pocket of your cardigan.
As you reached the back garden, he was on his knees digging small holes for the seeds and it made you want to hug him and comfort him. You looked around and didn't find anyone else there, not even Dr. Vis.
“Why are you being punished?” You asked as you sat down on the nearest garden chair so he looked your way and took a few sniffs “Asks the one breaking the rules herself”
You looked at him confused as he said that.
“What do you mean?”
“That sandwich in your pocket can land you in big trouble darling” he mumbled as he got back to work so you sighed. How was he able to just guess these things? Perhaps he had some sort of psychic intuition or maybe he was just observant like that.
“What did you do?” You asked him again so he chuckled in response.
“Pissed off someone and got punched”
“Why do you do it Daemon, it's not going to make your life any easier?”
“I can't help it, when I feel something.. I say it.. subtlety isn't in my nature”
As he spoke, a realization dawned on you, he was really honest and straightforward, even if it got him into trouble.
“Don't you miss your family out there?” You asked him a personal question so he shook his head
“Why not?” you questioned again hoping to get more information about his life before he got here.
“Lost mum when I was 4, father was never around, older brother raised me but I'll never satisfy him, I'd never be what he wants me to be” his voice sounded heavy with sadness and perhaps under different circumstances you could have offered him a hug.
“I'm sorry, I know what it's like to lose a parent” you mumbled as you picked on your nails again so he turned his head to look at you.
“Your mother wouldn't want you to fuel that nasty habit”
And you stopped picking immediately
”She worked here, didn't she?” He asked you so you nodded in response, he must have heard about it somewhere.
“How did she die?” He asked you so you sighed, you never liked thinking or talking about it.
“She died here.. heart attack they said”
“And you believe that?” He asked you so you looked at him confused
“What else should I be believing?”
“I don't really know yet”
“You're so strange you know that” you couldn't help but smile.
“Is that a bad thing?
“No ..it's not” he gave you a warm smile as you said that. You watched as he spent the next hour diligently planting 100 hydrangea seeds. After he was finished, you had to report it to Dr. Vis before Daemon was allowed to go back to his room and rest.
“Eat this, there's still time for dinner” you passed him the sandwich so he looked at it with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity before taking a bite and savoring the flavor.
Later that night as you finally got in bed you had even more puzzling questions than you had a day before. The feathers, the hair, how he was so intuitive, how he was burning so hot all the time, nothing made sense to you. There was something wrong with him but you weren't able to figure it out.
You had almost drifted into sleep when you heard a knock on your window and your heart went still. As you sat up you couldn't really believe your eyes, Daemon was on the other side of the window, standing so daringly on that narrow ledge. He was absolutely crazy, you couldn't even deny it anymore.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You asked him as you pulled your window up and pulled him inside carefully so he won't fall down to his death.
“Everything” he mumbled as he cupped your cheeks and you froze in your spot, how did he even get up here? Sure you lived a floor up but one would have to know how to walk on walls to directly reach the window.
“How did you get up here?” You asked him sternly so he placed his forehead on yours to calm down, his jaw clenched in anger in frustration.
“You ask stupid questions darling”
He pulled away from you and walked past you so you glared at him.
“Stupid? Is it stupid for me to want to know how you climbed up a floor and ended up outside of my window in the middle of the night?” You crossed your arms so he tilted his head as if to mock you.
“It's common sense really which you don't seem to have or perhaps denying it all makes you feel normal about yourself”
You glared at him in bewilderment as he said that.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” You asked him so he approached you and grabbed your hands on his own before he locked them behind your back, you were starting to get used to how physical he could get with you.
“Denying the truth makes you feel sane, it makes you believe that you're different from these people you tend to all day long. Am I wrong, hmm?” He asked you so you looked up at him
“Are you calling me crazy?” You asked him so he snickered in response.
“No no no no..I'm merely suggesting that perhaps you're gullible, only capable of seeing things from a shallow perspective, despite my numerous attempts to show you the truth”
“And what is the truth? That you're a half fucking dragon?” your voice raised in a mix of anger and confusion.
For a moment, you thought he was going to lash out at you as his grin faded into a scowl. Instead, he answered calmly,
“Perhaps i am”
“Then show me, become one, right here right now” you challenged him and his jaw clenched
"It's not that easy," he snarled, his jaw clenched in anger.
"Why not?" you pressed him, your voice shaking with frustration.
"It's not," Daemon repeated, his tone barely above a whisper, as if he were ashamed of his inability to show you the truth.
"Well, then you need to stop with your bullshit," you snapped, your anger evident in your every word. "And stop coming into my room like this, you'd make me lose my job,”
Your breaths were getting heavier as you spoke angrily, it was part anger and part your close proximity with him.
“Is that what you really want? Want me to leave you alone?” he asked you with irony dripping from his voice.
“Yes” you mumbled sharply so he let go of your arms and instead of using the window he used the door to step out, he didn't give a fuck about being caught honestly.
Next morning you didn't even attempt to clean his room but when he didn't come out for lunch or tea time in the evening you couldn't stop yourself from checking up on him.
So, after taking a shower and changing into a dress, you cautiously made your way to his room and knocked twice on the door before stepping inside.
As you entered the room, you found him sitting upright on the bed in the darkness like a creep, with the only light coming from the bathroom. He had his elbows placed on his thighs, his chin situated on his clasped fingers and he was staring into the bathroom even though he was clearly aware of your presence
“I thought you didn't want to see me anymore” he mumbled as he kept staring into the bathroom so you approached him and stood in front of him, blocking the only source of light, you kind of looked like an angel to him with the glimmering shine of light surrounding you.
“Go downstairs, it's dinner time” you mumbled softly so he looked up at you and smiled.
“I'm sorry I got so ..heated last night” he mumbled softly as his eyes raked over your figure, your shift was over and he noticed the green dress you had worn, he brought his hand forward and ran it over your shin so you stepped back a little as his touch sent a shiver down your spine.
Despite the tension between you two, it felt like there was an unspoken bond that had developed over the past few days.
“Can't stay away from me can you?” he asked, smugness palpable in his voice. You could feel your hands clench into a fist but definitely not from anger.
“I'm just worried about you as a patient” you mumbled softly, almost seductively, he was such a bad influence on you.
“Mmmhmmm” he mumbled as he trailed his fingers up your bare skin but as soon as he had touched your bare thigh under the dress, you slapped his hand away.
“You're being inappropriate” you looked him in the eye as if to warn him but as his hands went under your dress again you involuntarily placed your hands on his shoulder, fingers digging into his flesh, eyes rolling back into your head.
“I have been inappropriate with you since the very first day” you let out a moan as his fingers danced back n forth, caressing your soft flesh near the inside of your thighs, his touch almost made you want to lose it all, every nerve in your body felt altered.
Your opened mouth and the look on your face only turned him on beyond belief,
He placed his other hand on your waist and pulled you closer to his face and then he pressed his nose against your clothed intimate area, your fingers curled around his neck as you let out a deliciously tortured moan that you had been suppressing all your life.
“Ohh you smell good enough to eat darling”
He breathed in deeply and let out a growl as your arousal filled his senses, fingers trailed under your dress again and this time he caressed the back of your thighs, his fingers moving upwards slowly to caress those plump cheeks but he was holding back. It took everything in him to not throw you onto his bed and make you belong to him, he had to control for your own sake.
He wanted to ruin you very slowly, more and more every passing day, make you so desperate that you'd beg for him to touch you.
Suddenly the intimacy of the situation was too much for you, and you felt the tears welling up in your eyes, that's when you backed away from him, pressing yourself against the wall so he got up and approached you. He didn't want you to feel afraid of feeling things, he didn't want you to be so scared of feeling intimacy.
“Calm down sweet girl” he mumbled as he grabbed your chin to make you look him in the eye.
“I can't..I can't breatheee” you mumbled quietly so he kissed the tip of your nose,
“You can..keep looking at me”
“No this is wrong ..it's so Wronggggg..I'm being so bad and so wrong” he could tell that you were feeling overwhelmed so he cupped your cheeks and caressed your cheek with his fingers.
“Shhhhhhh darling shhhhh” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around you and finally pulled you into a hug, a proper hug, his body felt hotter than the sun as you got on your tip toes and placed your head between the crook of his neck, but it did calm you down a little. You had never been embraced this way so you couldn't even decipher what you were feeling in the moment. Once your breathing had calmed enough you pulled away from him to look at him.
“What's bothering you more, the fact that it's forbidden or just the idea of being touched by a man?” He asked you as you pulled away slightly, his thumb ran over your cheek as he wiped your tears, he found you adorable when you acted this way, the urge he had felt to protect you that night only became stronger in that moment.
You couldn't bring yourself to answer immediately, feeling your mouth go dry but then you responded meakly.
“Bothhhhh”
“When was the last time you touched your cunt darling?” You raised your palm up to plant it on his lips as he asked you such a dirty question like that.
“Shut up ..you can't talk to me like that” you had intended for your voice to come out as a warning but then it sounded as if you were teasing him instead.
“What about dirty movies hmm? Ever seen one? Ever watched a man fuck a woman? Or a woman sucking a man's cock?” he mumbled as he grabbed your hand and placed it on his bulge, your heart almost stopped beating at the gesture, he was so..hard and huge, it made your head spin.
“Please Daemon” your voice barely came out in a whisper so he smirked in response.
“Why are you so timid hmm? Did you get caught? Mumma caught you touching yourself as a teen?” You slapped him lightly on the cheek so he snickered.
“Once she did..but that's not the reason” you told him honestly as you didn't want to play games, you didn't know how to do it. Him on the other hand, you couldn't tell if he was really interested in you or just plain bored. His gentle touch felt both soothing and alarming at the same time, like he was trying to lull you into a false sense of security.
“Tell me the reason then” his voice was firm as he questioned you.
“I don't feel it..i have never felt sexual attraction before” he looked at you as if he was not surprised but at the same time he seemed curious.
“To a man?”
“To anyone.. I don't feel attraction, i don't picture myself kissing anyone or doing other things with them..i haven't done it all my life” you had never told anyone about this, and you knew you shouldn't have been revealing such personal things to him, a patient nonetheless, but you couldn't help yourself, you were so painfully aroused right now that it hurt.
“Then what do you think of when you're grinding your pretty cunt against a pillow at night? Hmm?” His breath was hot against your face as he murmured and you were only able to moan in response.
“You haven't thought about anyone in your life..Until I got here, you have been thinking about me since then and I know that” he mumbled confidently so you shook your head even though you looked stupid doing it. You had to control yourself, you knew you had to.
“You're so full of yourself” you mumbled like a bratty child, making him smirk
“Uhhhuh and don't you want the same? Don't you want to be so full of me as well?”
“No.”
“Very convincing..Fucking is in human nature darling, that's how we have evolved, and you want to get fucked i know” he told you as he brushed his thumb over your lips “But that's not enough for you is it? It's not.. you want to be loved, you want to be swept off your feet and serenaded, you need a man to show you what romance feels like” you couldn't help but smile genuinely as he said that.
“Too bad you're a dragon”
As much as he wasn't expecting the quip when he was trying to seduce you he did appreciate the humor.
“Half dragon. Half man. Don't fool yourself sweet thing”
You got on your tip toes and kissed his bruised cheek before you pulled yourself out of his grip to leave his room.
On the way out you noticed that the bars on his windows were pulled apart, making you stop in your tracks and you turned around to face him once more. You knew he was strong, but only someone with a level of superhuman strength could have done that.
“Make me believe that you are what you think you are, if you care about me, make me feel it, if you think my eyes are closed then open them for me, if you want me to be your friend and believe your truth, show me the truth, show yourself to me” you said to him confidently and a smile curved the corner of his mouth.
“Aren't you afraid I'd drive you as insane as I am?” You chuckled as he said that, there was a touch of threat and intimidation in his voice.
“You scare me but I like it Daemon” you gave him a sultry smile before you finished your sentence “That's what I think about when I'm pleasuring myself at night”
😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏
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@anukulee @ammo23 @littledark11 @stupidthoughtsinwriting
@daenny-t
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╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all the fanfics i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3
ᡣ𐭩 how you can help palestine
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☾ @runa-falls
☼ Cocktails
⭒ you finally gain enough courage to make a move on your best friend
☼ Secret Third
☼ Did You Just Kiss Me?
☾ @softlyspector
☼ Disaster
⭒ Marc's mental health takes a turn for the worse when you give him some news. After chasing him to Chicago, you, Steven, and Jake are left to pick up the pieces.
☼ making out with Steven. that is all
☼ surprising them with affection they aren't used to
☼ why won't you let me take care of you?
☾ @soonknight
☼ Jake Lockley (fucking you against the bathroom counter)
⭒ He's anything but gentle, but you wouldn't have him any other way.
☼ Deserve
⭒ Marc never stays with you after he fucks you. You are better left in the hands of Steven. This time, he doesn't leave you.
☼ "I thought we agreed to share her?"
☾ @ichorai
☼ dlz
⭒ jake lockley wasn't your husband. steven and marc were. jake was just... he was just there. a ghost living in your house.
☼ Stork Owl
⭒ you often walked around with a storm cloud hanging over your head. good thing steven always carried an umbrella.
☼ Love Dog
⭒ your neighbor was delusional. he cried a lot, spoke of nonsensical happenings, and always appeared somewhat lost. you found yourself to be rather fond of him.
☼ I Was Just A Kid
⭒ khonshu wanted you dead. marc just wanted you.
☾ @writefightandflightclub
☼ A Lasting Impression
⭒ Steven falls asleep on you. No… I mean literally on you.
☼ Just Right
⭒ Marc joined the Marines thinking he might finally belong somewhere. Turned out, he belonged next to you.
☾ @eyelessfaces
☼ Drenched Flowers
⭒ you and marc had a serious fight and have been avoiding each other since. the tension is hard to handle for everyone, and your only wish is to make things right again between you and marc, only he strictly refuses to front.
☼ Tired and Wounded
⭒ marc comes home bleeding and refuses to talk about it, you beg him to let you take care of his injuries.
☾ @psithurista
☼ Stuck
⭒ You stop by Steven's place one night after work. Somebody else answers his door.
☾ @redeyerhaenyra
☼ Sleeping Beauty
⭒ After having sex with Jake, you both fall asleep in your flat. Only, it's not Jake that wakes up, it's Steven.
☾ @mcondance
☼ giving Steven head
☾ @sinsofsummers
☼ Insatiable
⭒ you can never get enough of marc. and marc? he's not complaining.
☾ @fettuccin-e
☼ Its Never Easy
☼ Man in the Mirror
⭒ Steven knows it’s wrong, God, it’s fucking wrong, but it’s like he can’t stop himself.
☼ Gold-Skinned and Eager
☼ A Soft Ray of Sunlight
☾ @sarahghetti
☼ Blood On Your Mind
⭒ after an argument with marc, you go missing. he tears himself apart trying to find you.
☼ All the Echoes in My Mind
⭒ marc falls victim to his own self-doubt. you get caught in the crossfire.
☾ @bits-and-babs
☼ Chocolate
⭒ After weeks of pining for your coworker Steven Grant, sharing chocolate over a late shift causes sparks to fly.
☾ @bruhstories
☼ Canopic Jar
⭒ marc is exasperated by you, but he needs to behave because you're steven's girlfriend.
☾ @spctrsgf
☼ Cake
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justagalwhowrites · 4 hours
Text
Halcyon - Ch. 10: People Might Think You Care About Me
You and Joel spend the holidays together. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 9, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.
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Again, I'm here begging HBO to give me something to use for young Joel PLZ
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
Warnings: Mention of dieting and diet culture. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI
Length: 5.8K
AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter
“I can’t believe my kid is going to like you better than me,” Joel said, sitting in the middle of the living room floor with a roll of wrapping paper spread out in front of him. “Scissors.” 
You handed them over before grabbing the tape, putting a piece on the tip of your finger before folding the paper around the box - a friendship bracelet kit - that you were wrapping for Sarah. 
“I mean, first of all, your kid already likes me more than she likes you,” you teased, turning the box to do the other side. “She has good taste…” 
“You’re the worst.” 
“Second,” you said, ignoring him. “It is a joint gift, you’re getting tons of cool dad points out of this.” 
“She’s gonna know it was your idea,” he said, adjusting the gift he was wrapping. “Hell, she’s gonna know that only one of us could have gotten tickets and it ain’t me.”
As if on cue, Swiftie - Sarah’s kitten - pounced on the box Joel was wrapping. 
“Yeah, this one knows, too,” he said, scooping her up with one large hand and setting her down. “I miss when she wanted Barbies. Shit was easier.” 
You laughed. 
“Be happy she’s excited about anything enough that she’s going to freak out over Taylor Swift tickets,” you said. “She’s about to be a disaffected teenager, enjoy it while it lasts.” 
“Yeah, don’t remind me,” he muttered, “She’s stubborn enough as it is.” 
“You’re in for it, Miller,” you said as your cat, Puck, climbed on your lap. You reached around him to finish taping the package you were wrapping. “She’s going to give you so much shit…” 
“What if she’s just like you, hm?” Joel teased. “Gonna have a nerd for a kid…” 
“Hey, I was a nerd who snuck out at night to go get drunk with the boneheaded jock,” you teased back. “You really want her to be just like me?” 
“Jesus, you’re right,” Joel shook his head, finishing wrapping his present. “I’ll have to keep her far away from anyone like me for the sake of us all.” 
You snorted and finished wrapping your own gift before scooping Puck into your arms, nuzzling into his fur and giving him a kiss on the head before settling with your back against your couch as you looked at the lights on the tree.
It was Christmas Eve, the first one in years you were spending without Gale and you’d never been more thankful for Joel. 
Last year, you and Gale were separated but you’d felt so alone that you’d texted him the afternoon of Christmas Eve and spent most of the night and next day in bed. You’d tricked yourself then, pretended there was a chance in hell of the two of you getting back together and things going back to the way they used to be. 
That hadn’t happened. You’d spent New Year’s Eve in bed, too. Except that time, you were alone. 
You’d been afraid that was going to happen for you this holiday season, too. You asked Anna what she had planned for Christmas, fully expecting her to want to spend the day together. She had other things in mind. 
“Honestly, ever since Mom died?” She’d shrugged. “I love using it as a day to just chill. Binge watch TV I’ve been meaning to catch up on, eat a pile of Chinese food, maybe take a bath… It’s pretty boring but I love it. And since I’ve got this little bundle on the way, I’m extra looking forward to it this year.” 
“Oh,” you forced a smile, trying to hide your disappointment. “No, that sounds great.” 
“Oh God,” she clamped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide for a moment. “Did you want to do something? I’m so sorry, I should have…” 
“”No,” you waved her off quickly. “No, you’re good! I don’t want to disrupt your plans…” 
“You can join if you want!” She said. “I mean, for everything but the bath part, that might be a little much now that we’re not kids anymore.” 
“No,” you said again. “You have fun! Tradition is tradition and you need the break. Maybe I’ll do the same.” 
You should have known that she would have her own way of doing things. You’d all but abandoned her during your marriage, sending perfunctory text messages and holiday cards and flying her up for a long weekend every year or so but, otherwise, you went weeks without talking. Of course she had Christmas plans that didn’t involve you. Why would she have any that did? 
Joel, however, had done what he’d always done since you’d moved back to Texas: Made room for you in his life. 
“Know you and Anna probably already got plans but,” he’d shrugged two weeks earlier. “If you don’t… want to spend Christmas with me n’Sarah? Tommy, too, assuming he doesn’t con his way into dinner at some girl’s house. S’OK if you don’t, just figured… I dunno…” 
You’d smiled, bigger than you’d really meant to. 
“You want me to spend Christmas with you?” 
“I want you to spend most days with me,” he shrugged. “But you know, we gotta go out in the world and make money and shit. Anyway, Christmas. You in? Could just move in until the New Year if you really wanted…” 
The last part wasn’t going to work with your obligation to go try to write a book once Christmas was through. But you had spent the last two nights at Joel’s, bringing Puck over to play with Sarah and Swiftie as the three of you watched Christmas movies and binged cookies. No papers to grade, no lawyers calling because your attorneys’ offices were closed, no pressure because you already had time set aside to write. You could really relax for the first time in what felt like an eternity and relaxing with Joel and Sarah was quickly becoming your favorite thing in the entire world. 
But all that relaxing had meant there was a small pile of presents that weren’t wrapped that needed to make it under the tree. It was Christmas Eve and time had run out. 
“You need to stop procrastinating,” you said, getting your egg nog that was now mostly liquor off the coffee table and taking a sip. “Can’t get away with that shit when you’re a business owner.” 
“Just watch me,” he teased. “Besides, you’re one to talk, you made any progress on that book?” 
“That’s what next week is for,” you said, giving the cat a kiss just as he started to get restless in your arms. You set him down. “Fingers crossed having nothing else to do will make me churn out the words.” 
“Wild to me that you make money from what’s in your head,” Joel came and sat next to you. “Not that I think you shouldn’t, if anyone should it’s you. Just that anyone does at all is insane.” 
“Well, I may not make money off it for long if I can’t write anything else,” you sighed. “Know what? Let’s not talk about next week. I want to live in this moment - the one where we don’t have any worries and the presents are all under the tree and Sarah is passed out - for a while longer yet.” 
Joel hummed in agreement and you leaned your head on his shoulder, sighing contentedly. You could smell his skin and cologne and there was still a little bacon scent from when he’d made breakfast for the three of you that morning. 
“Think she’ll have a good Christmas?” Joel asked quietly, the two of you watching the lights twinkle on his tree. 
“Hell yeah,” you smiled a little. “You really are an amazing Dad, Joel.” 
He scoffed. 
“I’m serious,” you peered up at him. “You’re lucky to have Sarah but she’s lucky as hell to have you, too. She’s going to love it.” 
“Speaking of parents… anything new in the Anna situation?” Joel asked cautiously. 
“It’s a girl,” you sighed. “But she seems to be keeping up with everything, thank God. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe this is the kick in the ass she’s been needing…” 
“Was for me,” Joel shrugged, making your head rise with his shoulder. 
You sighed again. 
“Just seems like an awful lot to put on a kid,” you said. “And you might have been young and dumb but you didn’t have the shit Anna’s got on her plate. It’s a bit of a different story with her.” 
“She might surprise you. But either way, we’ll make up a room for the little sucker here,” Joel said. “Just to be safe.” 
“Regardless, that’s next year Goldie and Joel’s problem,” you said. “And thank fuck for that.” 
“Yeah, fuck those two,” you could hear the smile on Joel’s voice. “Let’s put the wrapping paper away and go to bed, something about Santa and knowing when you’re sleeping and all that.”
You cleaned up the living room and tried not to pay attention to the nighttime routine you’d fallen into with Joel in the few days you’d been staying with him. You had your own sink in Joel’s bathroom, one that had your hair products and face wash lined up alongside it. You had your own side of the bed with your own nightstand where the book you’d been reading the last few days was nearing its end and waiting for you. If you thought about it too much, you’d miss it when it was gone. If you thought about it too much, it might seem like something you could keep.
Joel made his customary space at his side and you nestled into him, your head on his chest where you could hear his heart beat. His fingers trailed up and down your arm. 
“There are upsides to a kid, you know,” he said quietly. “Christmas morning is one of ‘em. Just wait.” 
You smiled a little. 
“Stop keeping me awake and we won’t have to wait long,” you said. 
Joel snorted. 
“Yeah yeah. Night Goldie.” 
“Night Joel.” 
Sarah came careening into Joel’s room before 7 a.m., slamming into the bed so hard that it made your teeth rattle. 
“Dad! Aunt Goldie!” She shook you both. “Wake up, it’s Christmas!” 
“Yeah, alright,” Joel groaned, taking his warm arm from its place around your shoulders. You groaned, too. “You stay here with Goldie while I go put the coffee pot on and get set up to record you…” 
Sarah groaned. 
“Seriously?” 
“Seriously,” he said. “Sit tight, five minutes.” 
You rolled onto your back and blinked the sleep from your eyes, Sarah bouncing impatiently on the bed. You lifted your head enough to look at her, curls sticking every which way, and you dropped back down onto the pillow with a groan. 
“You’re lucky you’re cute, kid,” you said. 
“Yeah, that’s what my dad says,” she said cheerfully and you could picture her smile as she did. 
“Alright, come on out,” Joel called from the living room. Sarah rocketed off the bed and you laughed as you got up yourself, trailing behind her and trying not to yawn. 
“Oh cool!” Sarah flopped down beside her stocking and started going through it as you got to the living room. Joel was sitting on the couch, his phone set up on a tripod in the corner and pointed at the tree. “These are those face mask things I said I wanted! And the headbands for soccer!” 
“I do pay attention now and then, baby girl,” Joel said, rubbing his eyes. 
“Don’t you mean Santa pays attention?” You asked, sitting next to him on the couch. Joel handed you a cup of coffee, made exactly how you liked it.
“I know Santa’s not real, Aunt Goldie,” Sarah rolled her eyes and gave you a look. “I’m 11, not a kid.” 
Joel snorted. 
“Sorry,” you said. “My mistake.” 
“Don’t spoil Santa for Goldie,” Joel said before reaching down on the ground next to him. “Speaking of which…” 
He handed you a fat stocking and you frowned a little as you took it. 
“You made me a stocking?” You asked, tears pinching at your throat. “No one’s made me a stocking since I was in high school…” 
“Then you’re real overdue,” he smiled a little and went back to watching Sarah as she unwrapped a chocolate Santa and stuffed the entire thing in her mouth. “Alright, let’s not eat all the candy in one sitting…” 
“But it’s Christmas!” She said, voice muffled around the chocolate. 
“Still gonna get sick,” he replied. 
You started unpacking the stocking, pulling two pairs of fuzzy socks out of the top. 
“Because your feet are always freezing,” he said, looking back at you. “Figured one pair for here, one for your house…” 
“Thank you,” you smiled, going back into the stocking. There was some of your favorite candy, one of the face masks Sarah had, a bottle of gold nail polish. 
“We can do a spa day!” She beamed. 
“We can,” you laughed, looking at Joel who just shrugged, a small smile on his face. 
At the bottom of the stocking was a chunky gold pen, thick plastic encasing glitter and you turned it over in your fingers, frowning for a moment at just how familiar it felt. 
“Saw one like the one you had when we were kids years ago,” Joel said. “Bought it on a whim, thought you might want it.” 
You wanted to say thank you but you couldn’t seem to make a sound, the words caught in your throat. Instead, you just threw your arms around his neck and he laughed a little when he caught you, his hand sliding over your side and around to your back. 
You stayed close to Joel and watched as Sarah tore through her presents, the envelope with the concert tickets safely in Joel’s possession. 
“Hey Sarah,” you said eventually. “Can you hand me that box under there that’s for your dad?” 
Joel frowned as Sarah got the box, setting it on the coffee table in front of Joel and hovering as he went to open it. 
“Didn’t need to get me anything,” he said. 
“Too damn bad,” you said. “Don’t get too excited, it’s nothing crazy.” 
He opened it. Inside were two shot glasses, leather wrapped with a monogrammed M burned into it. 
“I thought you needed some accessories for the flask,” you smiled. 
He laughed. 
“We gotta break these in,” he said, looking them over. “They even look like they match…” 
“May have gotten Tommy to send me pictures,” you said. “Keep going, one more thing in there.” 
He shifted the tissue paper before pulling out a cassette tape, frowning at it for a moment. 
“What…” 
“I know your stereo is old enough that it plays tapes,” you said, palm out. “Hand it over.” 
He laughed once but obeyed and you went to put the tape in, adjusting the volume so it wouldn’t be too loud. It crackled a bit at the start and then Joel’s voice - almost 20 years younger but still so familiar - filled the room.
“My name is Joel Miller,” he said. “I play guitar and sing, mostly rock, little country…” 
Joel gaped at the stereo before looking to you. 
“Is this that old demo tape we made when we were kids?” He asked. You laughed and nodded. “Holy… where the hell’d you find this thing?” 
“I kept one,” you shrugged. “Thought it might give you a nudge toward playing again.” 
The Joel on tape started playing and Sarah came and sat between the two of you on the couch, looking up at her dad. 
“So that’s you?” She asked. 
“Sure is,” he said. “Long time ago, I was closer to your age then than mine now.” 
“What’s it for?” She asked. 
“Well,” Joel looked over her head to you and smiled a little before looking back at his daughter. “I always liked playing, wanted to be a singer for a while. Goldie here talked me into making some demo tapes to give to places around here that had open mic nights so I could actually play for people. Worked, too. Had a few places I played pretty often for a bit in there thanks to that tape.” 
“Why’d you stop?” She frowned. “You were good.” 
Joel shrugged. 
“Bigger things to do,” he kissed the top of her head. “Though speaking of music… think there might be one more thing for you under the tree.” 
Sarah’s frown deepened and she went to look around, picking her way through wrapping paper and but not finding it. 
“There’s nothing over here, Dad,” she said. “Are you sure?” 
“Oh, right,” Joel said, giving you a wink and pulling the envelope out of the pocket of his pajama pants. “Here it is.” 
She jumped over some of the boxes scattered over the floor and took the envelope from him, her eyebrows knitting together as she read the writing on the front. 
“To the swiftest music fan?” She said, looking up from the envelope and at the two of you. 
You just shrugged. 
“Gonna have to open it, kiddo,” Joel said. 
She slipped her fingers below the seal and pulled out the card, two pieces of paper falling to the ground before she had a chance to read it. She picked them up and unfolded them, reading the first one. 
“It says we have a hotel room in Dallas?” She looked at Joel. 
“Gotta read the other paper, baby girl,” he said. “That’s the important one. And the one from Aunt Goldie.” 
She flipped to that page next and only held it for a moment before shrieking and throwing herself at you, knocking you back into the couch. 
“You got Eras Tour tickets?” She pulled back, half on top of you and half on the couch. You just laughed and nodded. “Oh my GOD, thank you thank you thank you, you’re the best! OH MY GOD!” 
“Well your dad is the one getting us there and making sure we have a place to stay,” you said. “So hug him, too.” 
“Thank you!” She threw herself at him, too, and he laughed, catching her and giving her a squeeze. “This is the best present ever, it’s going to be the best time, I can’t wait! We’re going to see Taylor Swift! Oh my GOD, I have to tell my friends!” 
She shot off to her room to get her phone and Joel laughed, looking over at you. 
“OK I don’t even care that she likes you better n’me now,” he said. “She’s that happy? Worth it.” 
“We’ll see how we feel after a few days wrangling her for the Taylor Swift concert,” you said, watching where she’d disappeared up the stairs. “But… yeah, definitely worth it.” 
“Hey,” Joel said, voice oddly earnest. You looked over at him. “Thanks for loving my kid.” 
You smiled a little. 
“She’s yours,” you said. “How could I not?” 
Tommy came over a few hours later, once the turkey was in the oven and the wrapping paper was cleaned up off the floor. He gave Sarah a five pound bag of Sour Patch Kids and said “don’t tell your dad” before kissing the top of her head as she scampered off to stash her hoard in her room. He greeted you with a hug with a tight squeeze on the end and you still couldn’t quite get used to just how adult he was. There was part of you that still saw him as the little kid who trailed after you and Joel, the one who sometimes begged to go to Dairy Queen for a Blizzard. Now, he was nearly as tall as his older brother, drinking a beer and talking to Joel about a woman named Maria he’d just started dating. It was an odd reminder of just how much time you’d lost with Joel, just how much had changed. 
The four of you had dinner - Tommy teasing Sarah more like a loving older brother than an uncle, making you smile - and, before too long, the day was done. 
Sarah insisted on listening to Taylor Swift while she got ready for bed and Joel read to her from an Artemis Fowl book, you eavesdropping on Joel doing the voices from your place in the living room while the cats curled up around you. 
A keen sense of belonging settled over you then, as you held a mug of cocoa in one hand and the other rested on the back of your large, orange cat. This, you thought, was where you belonged. In this space, in this time, alongside these people. 
How could you ever hope to find this anywhere else? How were you ever supposed to recover from this stubborn crush if Joel was the place you felt most like home? 
“You OK?” Joel asked, hovering toward the top of the stairs, his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. 
“Yeah,” you smiled and gave Puck a scratch and let yourself have the feeling. “I’m good.” 
You got up early the next morning, Joel barely awake enough to help carry your bags to the car. 
“See you New Year’s Eve,” he said, his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants and his hair in total disarray. “Better have that damn book done by then.” 
“Do you really think you can write an entire book in a week?” You asked, brows raised. 
“I dunno,” he said. “You’re the smart one, you tell me.” 
You rolled your eyes and he laughed a little. 
“Alright, I’m goin’ back to bed,” he said. “Text me when you get there, have fun being a genius.” 
“Hey,” you called to him as he made it halfway back up his walk. He turned to face you, frowning slightly. “Thanks. For being my friend.” 
An expression you couldn’t place passed over his face before he smiled a little. 
“Careful,” he said. “Talk like that enough, people might think you care about me and shit.” 
“Well, we can’t have that,” you said. “See you in a few days.” 
He watched you drive off and you made your way to the hill country and the cabin Stephanie had reserved for you. You’d insisted that it have extra bedrooms and a hot tub and were surprised that she hadn’t pushed back on it. 
“Whatever you need to get the job done, you’ve got it,” she said after sending you links to some cabins. “I’m just here to facilitate.” 
You stopped on the way for groceries, stocking up so you wouldn’t need to leave the house once you settled in. You went with most of your standbys for cooking for one and watching the careful diet you’d been on for years but then thought of Joel bringing you tamales and plying you with cookies over the last few days. Maybe he was right. Maybe you did need to live a little. You got the stuff to make the bagel sandwiches, too. 
The cabin was damn near idyllic, all stone and wood with huge windows looking out at the brush leading down to the lake in the backyard. The hot tub was set on the back porch, a fire pit in the yard and rocking chairs out front. The kitchen was large and reasonably well equipped and there were enough bedrooms that Joel, Tommy and Sarah could have their own when they all joined you for New Year’s Eve. There was even a desk set up near a window that overlooked the water and you set up your laptop and charger and got out your notebook with the pen from your Christmas stocking, arranging everything just so. 
“Alright,” you said to no one after you got the groceries put away and made yourself a cup of coffee before settling in at the desk to write. “Let’s do this.” 
And… you tried. You really, truly did. 
Day one, you got most of an outline done. Enough of one that you went to bed feeling somewhat accomplished and felt good treating yourself to a bagel sandwich in the morning. But then, when you sat down to work on the next part for day two, you weren’t sure you liked any of it anymore. You pressed on, anyway. Day three, you tried to write the first chapter and you made some decent progress, at least feeling like you were getting to know the characters a bit as you settled into the story. But, day four, you read what you’d written the day before and wanted to claw your way out of your skin. What were you doing? Why did you think you could do this at all? Had you ever made anything worthwhile on your own? Why would you suddenly be able to do it now? 
The text came through when you were taking a break for lunch, desperately avoiding the gnawing feeling of failure after days of accomplishing fuck all when you really had no excuse not to. You sighed and opened your texts, fully expecting from Joel or Anna or even Stephanie. 
It wasn’t. 
Hey Doll
You dropped your fork in shock and it clattered to your plate as you blinked at your phone in total shock. He was texting you. Why was he texting you? He hadn’t texted you in months, not since you’d left Rhode Island. Why now? Did you want to know? Could you resist knowing? 
Hi Gale
You propped your phone up against your half empty can of Diet Dr. Pepper and stared at the screen, waiting for the next shoe to drop. 
It didn’t take long. 
How’ve you been doing? 
Your hand shook as you replied. 
Alright. I like the new school. You?
He responded almost instantly. 
Not bad. Was just thinking about you. Miss you. 
You froze, your heart in your throat. 
He missed you. How could he just say that? The collapse of your marriage had been one of the most painful things you’d ever gone through, happening in slow motion as he pulled further and further away and you desperately tried to dig your nails in to keep him close. You’d all but begged for him to miss you for years and now he was just texting it to you out of the blue. How could he just say that? How could you pretend like it wasn’t what you wanted to hear? 
You went to his Facebook page and checked his relationship status, one of the upsides to being with an older man meaning that his social media presence was pretty limited. He was still listed as in a relationship with Carla, a woman he’d met in much the same way he’d met you. The thought made your stomach churn, that you’d been so easily replaced by the younger, thinner, prettier version who had been dropped on his desk, practically gift wrapped. 
You went back to the texts. 
How’s Carla? 
There was a longer pause that time. 
She’s not you. 
“Jesus,” you said, setting the phone down and closing your eyes for a moment. You tried to think, forcing yourself to be practical. This wasn’t the time or the place to be having this conversation. You couldn’t have this conversation, not when you’d just been sitting her wondering if you could do the only thing you’d ever felt like you were supposed to do without his help. 
I don’t want to talk about this now. I’m in the middle of working on my book. Maybe another time. 
You stared at the phone, waiting for him to respond. He never did. 
“Yeah, sure seems like you missed me,” you muttered, finishing your salad and cleaning up from lunch, settling back in at your desk to write for the afternoon, trying not to think about the very real possibility that your writing career had ended when your marriage did. 
“I’m losing my mind over here,” you said, breaking down and calling Joel on day five. “There’s only so much I can say to a wall, you know.” 
“We’re comin’ your way tomorrow,” he said. “Be praying for some peace and quiet once Sarah and Tommy are there, trust me. Still like pecan praline ice cream, yeah?” 
“Blue Bell?” You asked. 
“Course it’s Blue Bell,” you could hear him roll his eyes through the phone. “What kind of animal you take me for?” 
“Oh, my apologies…” 
“Anything else you can think of?” He asked. “I can always stop on the way, too, but it’s easier while I’m here.” 
“I still think it’s silly to buy ice cream an hour away and then drive it out here,” you said. 
“That’s what coolers are for,” he replied. “Stop finding shit to worry about. Just give the writing one more shot, see how far you get. Who knows, you might surprise yourself.” 
“Yeah,” you sighed, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you remembered your texts with Gale the day before. 
“Goldie,” Joel said, tone serious. “That all that’s on your mind?” 
“Stop trying to read my thoughts,” you said. 
“Tell me,” he said. “Or I’ll show up early and make you.” 
“That a threat?” 
“That’s a promise,” he said. “What’s goin’ on?” 
“Gale texted yesterday,” you said, fidgeting with the handle of your coffee mug, the coffee itself going cold an hour ago. 
“Gale?” Joel asked, tone sharp. “Fuckin’ Gale? The fuck did he want?” 
“I don’t know,” you sighed. “I’ll show you the texts when you get here, maybe you can translate them for me since he’s not making any damn sense.” 
“That asshole better not be making any trouble,” Joel said. “I will find him and kick his ass, Goldie, just say the word…” 
“I know you will,” you laughed a little. “But don’t worry about it right now. And I should let you go…” 
“Yeah, go write your book,” he teased. “Change the world and shit.” 
There was a knock at your front door and you frowned, staring at it. There was a window to the side of it but all you could see was a shadow. 
“Hey, Joel?” You said. “Hang on one second, there’s someone at my door.” 
“What?” He sounded serious now. “Were you expecting anyone?” 
“No,” you said quietly, approaching it slowly and trying to see through the frosted glass. You couldn’t make out who it was. “So just stay on the line and make sure I’m not axe murdered…” 
“Need me to come out there now?” He asked. “If you ain’t safe…” 
“I’m sure it’s fine,” you said, unlocking the deadbolt. “Probably just a neighbor, but…” 
You opened the door and peered out through the crack, phone clutched against your head. 
You still almost dropped it. 
“Hey Doll.” 
***
“Hi Gale.” 
Joel’s heart dropped. 
“Gale?” He said, pressing his phone tight against his head and trying not to yell in the middle of the line at the HEB. “Fucking Gale? He’s there?” 
“I have to go,” you said quickly. “Talk later.” 
You hung up before he had a chance to say goodbye. He tried calling you back but you ignored it. 
Joel stood there, staring at his cart for a moment, his head swimming. 
Was he freaking out because it was you and he didn’t want you alone at some romantic looking cabin with your ex-husband? Was it because he knew that you weren’t in a place to handle this right now? Was it because he knew - knew - that your ex was a goddamn predator? 
He’d bitten his tongue about that fact since you’d been back, that the man you’d married had been more than twice your age and you’d only been a legal adult for all of a month when he’d met you. It didn’t matter that it was you, that Joel had gone searching for you and found you there with him all those years ago, he’d want to beat the shit out of a man like that regardless of who it was. A man like that couldn’t be trusted. 
He especially couldn’t be trusted with you. 
Joel checked out as fast as he could, calling Tommy as he drove. 
“Hey, need you to do me a favor,” he said quickly. 
“You always need me to do you a favor,” Tommy said. “One of these days I’m gonna cash in.” 
“Yeah, who got you the only job besides the army you’ve kept longer than a week?” Joel asked. 
Tommy sighed. 
“Fine. What’s up?” 
“Need you to take Sarah tonight.” 
“Joel, come on!” 
“M’serious,” Joel said. “Goldie’s ex just showed up at the fucking cabin…” 
“Oh, not that fucking asshole from the funeral,” Tommy cut him off. 
“That’s the one,” Joel said. 
“Fuck that guy,” Tommy said. “He needs to stay the fuck away from her.” 
“Yeah, somethin’ tells me he ain’t gonna make that choice on his own,” Joel said. “So I need you to pick up Sarah and take her for the night. And bring me my shit tomorrow. I’ll text you the address where Sarah’s at, she’s at her friend’s playing right now, needs to be picked up about five…” 
“Yeah, I got it,” Tommy said. “Go save the day.” 
Joel drove as fast as he dared, not familiar enough with where cops liked to hide to go too fast. He pulled up in front of the cabin you’d sent him the information for a week and a half earlier. He’d have admired it, in another circumstance. He’d always wanted a place like this, someplace quiet where there was enough space to live a little, maybe hunt. A place where Sarah could run and play and get to know nature a little. 
But in that moment, he was too pissed to take it in. 
He grabbed a bag out of the trunk - pretense more than anything else - and stalked up to the door before knocking on it, his fist coming down in heavy thuds on the wood. 
You pulled open the door, a surprised look on your face and your ex-husband at your back. 
He looked just about the same as Joel remembered him from before. Tall but not as tall as him, a refined air about him that made Joel want to deck him, a smug look on his face. His hair was gray and his face was wrinkled and Joel fucking hated him. 
“Joel,” you said, staring at him. “What are you…” 
Joel did the only thing he could think to do, fucking Brad standing so close to you with a hand between your shoulder blades like he fucking owned you. 
“Missed you too much, baby,” he said, watching your eyes go a little wide at the word. “Couldn’t wait until tomorrow.” 
He reached out and cupped the hinge of your jaw, his fingers wrapping around the back of your neck and he tugged you closer, his heart beating so fast he was sure that your fucking ex could hear it. 
But he didn’t care. 
All he cared about was the way your lips felt on his when he kissed you. 
A/N: I mean we can all agree, fuck Brad/Gale.
But also... his presence does get results.
THANKS FOR PUTTING UP WITH ME! Love you!
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floralcyanide · 21 hours
Text
ɪ, ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ― ᴘᴀᴜʟ ᴀᴛʀᴇɪᴅᴇs
paul atreides x fem!reader (nsfw)
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You enjoy your wedding night with Paul in a daring way.
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✣ warnings: smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, female anatomy described, knife play, fingering, mutual orgasm, aged-up paul, post-wedding sex
✣ word count: 1.2k
✣ author’s note: a surprise wip! it was even a surprise to me lol. I watched Dune/ Dune 2 a month ago but somehow just got the inspiration to write for Paul. I need to read the series, the size of the books intimidated me in middle school so I never read them lol ): anyway, I hope yall enjoy!
masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune
based on this song | i like the devil - purity ring
this fic has been cross posted to ao3.
ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.
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You’re standing in the mirror, admiring the off-white gown that flows behind you in a trail. It’s adorned in gold and pearl and fits you flawlessly. It’s the first moment of quiet you’ve had all day and your first time alone since this morning. It’s your wedding evening, and you’re now married to Duke Paul Atreides. This meant you’re the new Duchess of Caladan, a title that rolls off your tongue with satisfaction. Nothing seemed finer than being the leader of your people with your lover by your side. You are too busy in your thoughts and don’t notice Paul entering the suite and walking up behind you. He wraps his arms around you, resting his head on top of yours.
“What’s on your mind, my darling bride?”
“Nothing,” you smile, “It’s nice to hear that, though. Me being your bride.”
The sun is setting behind the cliffs of Caladan, showering the large bedroom in its golden glow through the windows of the Castle. The light falls onto Paul, his eyelashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. He looks at you with adoration through the reflection of the mirror. The same adoration he’s always looked at you with, but this time, his eyes are darker with a storm of desire. It’s the perfect evening to explore those desires, after all. Paul pulls away from you, beginning to unbutton his ceremonial wear, careful with the ancient fabric. You turn to help him with it, easing it off his shoulders. Paul doesn’t bother changing into something comfortable, knowing it won’t be on for long. He guides your dress down your arms and body, admiring the lace covering your most intimate parts. Paul takes your hand, kissing the top of it as he gets down on his knees before you. He pulls off your intricate shoes, the very ones that have been bothering your feet since this morning. You sigh in relief. Paul’s hand grasps your ankle as he brings it to his lips, kissing up the side of your calf as he makes his way to your thighs. He kisses your warm skin as he nears your clothed core. You hold your breath in anticipation, but before Paul reaches the desired destination, he removes his lips. 
“Come with me, my love,” Paul moves to lay on the large bed, beckoning you to follow him.
“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” you sigh, letting yourself relax into the cushy pillows.
“Don’t go sleeping on me yet,” Paul chuckles, hovering over you before pressing his lips to yours.
You grab his face, letting your hands slide through his mess of curls. He deepens the kiss before traveling to your neck, gently pecking your sensitive skin. Paul allows you to arch your back so he can unclasp and remove your bra. He then works your lacy garments down your legs and off your ankles. You’re entirely bare before him now, and this time around, it’s different. You belong to each other wholly now and can share intimacy knowing you’re forever bound. 
“Beautiful,” Paul whispers, letting his hands roam your body, “Can I try something?”
“Depends,” you bite your lip, “Will I like it?”
“Oh,” Paul scoffs, “You’ll love it. I know how you are, always wanting to try new and risky things.”
You quirk an eyebrow, “Risky?”
Paul leans over to the bedside table and retrieves a small dagger, one that had been gifted to him for your wedding. He hesitantly brings it to your throat, pressing the flat of the blade to your pulse.
“How about this, hmm?” Paul asks, searching your eyes for any indication of fear, but finds excitement instead, “You like it, my darling?”
“Yes,” you exhale, letting yourself melt into the bed despite the weapon at your throat. You fully trust Paul.
“Good,” he smiles, allowing one of his hands to slap your cunt, sending a surge of electricity through you as you yelp from the sudden movement. 
Paul circles your clit with a slow finger, biting his lip as your mouth gapes open in a silent cry. You buck your hips as you grow wet from the feeling of a dagger to your neck and Paul’s sensual touching. He gathers your wetness with his other finger before slipping it inside you, curling it immediately to stretch you out. He presses his thumb to your bundle of nerves as he pumps his middle finger in and out. Paul tosses one of your legs over his shoulder to get a better angle, adding another finger. He’s on his knees, firmly planted on either side of your legs, his lean body still hovering over you. You slide your hands over his torso before teasing the waistband of his underwear, which is growing a little tight. Paul pauses his movements to tear off the remaining clothing before he decides to lay on his stomach momentarily to get a taste of you. He licks a fat stripe up your weeping slit, suckling your clit to elicit a moan from you before resuming his previous position above you. Paul pumps himself a few times before gliding his tip along your entrance, gathering your arousal before slowly pushing in. 
“Paul,” you moan, throwing your head back as Paul presses the sharper edge of the dagger to your pulse point. 
Your heart roars in your ears at the adrenaline racing through your veins. One wrong move is all it takes. And it excites you. Paul finds himself fully sheathed inside you, catching his breath. You urge him to move, and he pulls himself almost entirely out of you before guiding himself back in. He picks up a rhythm, pounding into you as he holds the blade to your neck, his green eyes almost black now. You aren’t shy about how loud you are as Paul hits your g spot dead-on, and you try your best to be still when he does so the dagger doesn’t dig into your skin. Its sole purpose is to keep you under Paul’s control; you love every minute of it. Paul is gripping your hip with his other hand, helping you fuck yourself onto his length at the same time he’s thrusting into you. Paul moves the dagger down your chest to tease around the circumference of your breasts. You feel the familiar knot in your stomach tightening, and you warn Paul by wrapping your legs around his waist. He knows to pick up his pace when you do this. He completely discards the dagger beside you on the duvet, grabbing your hips with both hands as he slams into you, his grunts and moans growing louder. You can feel your arousal seeping out of you and surging around Paul’s cock, the sound of it mixing with the slapping of skin. 
“You’re so beautiful, my love. Will you cum for me?” Paul digs his fingernails into your hips, feeling himself growing closer to his orgasm.
“Yes,” you gasp, watching him move in and out of you, “I wanna cum for you, Paul.”
“Then let go, doll,” Paul coerces, his hair falling in his face.
You let your orgasm wash over you in a hot wave, your body going limp as Paul loses himself in the way your cunt clenches around him with a vice. His orgasm follows yours soon after, his cum filling you up. Your chest is heaving as Paul pulls out of you slowly before falling onto the bed next to you. He draws you into his chest, moving your hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. 
“So beautiful,” Paul whispers, and you smile before carefully turning to face him.
You stroke his cheek, “I’m so glad to be married to you.”
“And I to you,” Paul kisses your palm. 
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I love no words! Love the twist! Would you mind writing a follow up where the reader meets the daggers, and Jake has to explain how he has a soulmate without having a soulmate tattoo? Takes rooster and fanboy little extra time to understand.
Thank you so much anon!!! No Words is absolutely one of my favorite things I have ever written and it brings me such joy anytime someone new discovers it! 🥰💞
I'm not sure if you just read the fic or the Extended Version but I did go into a bit of what happens afterwards with Jake and Reader in a series of reblogs.
I'm sort of on a writing hiatus at the moment, but I did come up with some HCs for your request because I do really like it and it inspired me. I hope you like them:
Jake still can't fully believe he has found his soulmate after so many years without hope so it takes him some time before he's ready to introduce you to the Daggers (you understand and allow him to take as much time as he needs). However, they all notice something has changed and that Jake will disappear more and more often, to the point he is almost never at The Hard Deck anymore. But whatever is going on, he seems happy so they don't push it.
When Jake finally feels ready to introduce you, he makes a big deal about it. Penny was the only one at the bar the night you two met who knew Jake, so she's been in on the secret the whole time and helps him plan a special beach barbeque for the big announcement.
Jake told you to get there a little later so he could share the news with everyone first. When he tells everyone he finally found his soulmate, he is met with mixed reactions: Payback, Fanboy, and Phoenix seem completely supportive and happy for him, Coyote congratulates him but Jake can tell he is a little unsure about things (Coyote has known Jake the longest and knows how much this not having a soulmate thing has hurt Jake in the past so he's happy but also doesn't want to see his friend get crushed if he is wrong), but Rooster and Bob just share an uneasy look and hang back. When Jake confronts them, Bob tries to brush it off and says he's happy for him, but Rooster doesn't pull any punches. He knows that Jake has been getting more depressed and hopeless about his lack of soulmate tattoo lately and he thinks Jake is just fooling himself because he wants it so badly. Rooster tells Jake he needs to face the fact that he doesn't have a tattoo because he doesn't have a soulmate and this charade is just going to destroy him once he comes to his senses.
Before Jake can respond, you arrive and immediately link arms with Jake as you plant a big kiss on his mouth. You point to Bob and Rooster questioningly, and Jake has the biggest shit-eating grin as he drapes his arm over your shoulder and introduces them. He then tells them your name, and you pull out a marker and scribble something onto Jake's arm. When you hold it out to show them--flashing them your own soulmate tattoo in the process (a familiar phrase they've heard Jake use before) --and they read "I'm Jake's soulmate". You sign something to Jake and as he struggles to figure it out (but gets there eventually due to the online classes he's been taking), all the pieces click and Rooster and Bob sheepishly shake your hand. Rooster then pulls Jake aside and apologizes for what he said, but Jake just shrugs it off because he knows Rooster was just trying to have his back. Rooster is amazed by that reaction, but as Jake turns back to you, Rooster can see how Jake has already become a better man in the short time he has known you.
The rest of the barbeque is a lot of fun and you get along great with everyone (Phoenix even reveals to you that she can sign but you both decide to keep that from Jake for now which Phoenix will use against him later). Jake rarely leaves your side and when he does, he can't take his eyes off of you. All the Daggers recognize that indescribable pull between two people and any last lingering doubts that the two of you aren't soulmates fade away.
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lovetaroandtaemin · 17 hours
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The Start of Something New?
Bang Chan x Reader
Word Count: 2,900
THIS FIC IS NSFW, MINORS DNI! If your age cannot be clearly seen on your blog you will be blocked unless I know who you are!
Warnings: Suggestive flirting, smut (fingering, dirty talk), Chan and reader are exes, possessive Chan, mentions of past cheating, mentions of past toxic relationship. If there are any warnings that you think I missed let me know!
There WILL be a part 2 to this fic. I split it up because I'm still deciding where I want the story to go, and I really wanted to post something this week.
Thank you so much to @leejenowrld for beta reading this! Your feedback was so helpful, and I really appreciate you.
Fic is under the cut.
“I promise you Chan won’t be there. He was insistent on going to the studio tonight. Please, (Y/N),” Felix pleaded. He had called you to convince you to come to the dorm for a movie night, but so far, his attempts had been unsuccessful.
“I don’t want to risk seeing him.”
“I promise you that you won’t see him. He told me that he’ll be in the studio, and when does he ever change his mind about work unless someone makes him?”
“You make a good point, his constant need to be in the studio is part of what led to us breaking up.”
“Plus, I haven’t gotten to spend time with you since you and Chan broke up! I miss hanging out with you and watching movies.”
“Alright, Lix, I’ll go.”
“Yes! Thank you, (Y/N)!” he said before hanging up the phone.
You sighed and started to get ready. Nothing crazy was planned, just a movie and some snacks, so you decided to wear something comfortable. A plain black t-shirt and leggings were perfect for a chill night with friends. You decided against makeup since this was a casual hangout, and once you had your favorite sneakers on you were out the door.
When you got to the dorm, Felix was waiting for you outside. It had been too long since you had seen him and the rest of Stray Kids. You knew it wasn’t fair, but you had been avoiding everyone since you and Chan broke up. Seeing your friend again made you smile, but your smile quickly faded as you saw the worry etched onto his face.
“What’s wrong, Lix?”
“Um, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Did something bad happen?”
“Well, no, but there’s been a slight change of plans.”
“What do you mean? Are we not watching the movie?”
“We’re still watching a movie, but Chan is here. Turns out Minho and Changbin made him stay here for the movie night. I swear I didn’t know about it when I invited you.”
“It’s ok, Lix. I figured it would happen. Binnie wants us back together, I think.”
“Are you gonna leave?”
“No, I’ve missed you and the rest of the guys too much for that. I can deal with a little bit of awkwardness for one night.”
“Awesome! Then follow me.”
The two of you entered the dorm, and the soft lighting and table full of your favorite snacks made you feel right at home. The cozy feeling only increased when you were bombarded with hugs from all of Stray Kids. Well, all of Stray Kids except Chan. He maintained a decent amount of space from the door, but you really couldn’t blame him. If the look on his face was any indication, he had been missing you. Even though you were the one that ended the relationship, you had to admit that you missed him too.
“(Y/N), where have you been?” Hyunjin asked.
“We missed you!” Jisung almost yelled.
“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy, but I’ve missed you guys too,” you said with a laugh.
Once hugs and greetings were out of the way, you took a seat between Felix and Changbin on the couch. Jisung grabbed the remote, and “My Neighbor Totoro” began to play on the TV. You leaned your head on Felix’s shoulder and started to relax as the opening played. Felix had always been your best friend in Stray Kids; it was something that frequently made Chan jealous when you were together.
Halfway through the movie you sat up and noticed that Chan had been staring at you. If looks could kill, you and Felix would surely be dead. You had to admit though that a small part of you enjoyed that you could still get that kind of reaction from him. You were slightly embarrassed by it, but you had always found it sexy when Chan was angry. Turns out you still thought it was sexy even after you two were no longer together.
You decided to distract yourself from the thoughts you were having about Chan by getting drinks for everyone. While you were in the kitchen looking for some soda, you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned around to see who it was, and Chan was standing in front of you. You did your best to muster a smile and asked him if he would help you carry everyone’s drinks back to the living room. He agreed, and you hoped that was the end of it.
Once everyone had their drinks, you heard Chan’s voice again. “(Y/N)? Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Oh, uh sure.” You followed him back to the kitchen, wondering what was so important. Once the two of you were alone, however, you didn’t have to wonder anymore. He told you exactly what was on his mind.
“What the fuck is going on with you and Felix? Are you two dating?”
“No, we haven’t even seen each other since you and I broke up.”
“Then why were the two of you getting all cozy during the movie, huh? There’s something else going on, I know it.”
“There isn’t. Even if there was, why do you care? We’re not dating anymore. I’m allowed to see other people.”
“What if I don’t want you to see other people? What if I want to get back together?”
“What you want doesn’t matter in this scenario. We are not getting back together.”
“Why?”
“Gee, I wonder!” you said, voice dripping with venom, “Do you think it was the fact that you stopped treating me like your partner once I got comfortable around you? Or do you think it was the fact that I saw the text messages between you and Ryujin? Oh, I know! It must have been the fact that when I called you out on your bullshit you told me that I was crazy and that nothing was wrong.”
He stepped closer to you, eyes darkening. “You know that nothing happened between me and Ryujin.”
“Do I? All I know is that I saw texts where you told her that you loved her and that you would rather be with her than be with me.”
“That is not what the texts said,” he growled and stepped toward you again, effectively cornering you.
“Do you think that I’m stupid, Chan?”
“No, I think that you don’t listen.”
“There it is again! That’s the same thing you said when I confronted you about this when we were dating.”
“Just shut up, (Y/N).”
“No, you can’t tell me what to do!”
“Funny, you used to like it when I told you what to do,” he said with a chuckle.
His words caught you off guard, to say the least. But you maintained your composure. In the heat of the moment, you grabbed his jaw and said “We are done. Get that through your head.”
When you grabbed him, something inside Chan snapped. He was angry, but more than that he just wanted you. So, he took advantage of how close your faces were and kissed you with everything that he had. You let out a small noise of surprise, but you didn’t pull away. In fact, you moved your arms to his waist and pulled him closer. Despite everything that had happened between you, and the problems that you had, you still missed Chan. You had missed the feeling of his lips on yours, and now both of you knew it.
After what felt like hours, he pulled away and said, “Are you sure about that?” and walked away to re-join everyone in the living room. After you regained your composure, you followed him and once again sat between Felix and Changbin. Once you were settled, Felix leaned over and asked what happened.
“Nothing important. We were just catching up a bit.” You were lying through your teeth, but you hoped he wouldn’t catch on.
“You know I don’t believe that (Y/N).”
You chose to simply ignore him and turn your attention back to the movie. Once it was over, the lights went back to full brightness, and everyone went to their rooms except Chan and Felix, who had agreed earlier to clean up. You offered to stay and help, an offer that both of them happily accepted. Cleaning up didn’t take long at all, which you were grateful for. After it was all done, Felix went to his room, leaving you and Chan alone again.
The second Felix’s door closed; your lips were back on his. This time he was the one caught by surprise, but it was obvious that he loved it. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he held onto you like he was afraid you were gonna disappear at any second. Your arms found their way to his neck, and you pulled him as close as you possibly could. He pulled away for air and whispered, “I missed you so much.”
“Missed you too, Channie.”
“Channie? You haven’t called me that in a while,” he said in that teasing tone that made your heart melt.
“You haven’t kissed me like that in a while.”
He gave you a gentle smile and moved his hands down to your ass. You let out a small whimper at the contact and he smirked. “So, I guess that means you liked it?” he asked, obviously enjoying your reactions.
“Oh, shut up,” you replied, though you clearly did like it.
“Fine, then I guess I won’t do it again,” he said, moving his hands away.
“I didn’t say stop.”
He smiled and put his hands back on your ass. This time though, he squeezed, pulling another moan from you. It had only been a few minutes, but you were already sick of his teasing. So, you grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the bathroom. Plus, it felt too risky to be kissing like this when anyone could walk back into the living room at any time.
The second the door was shut Chan had you pinned against it, and he was back to kissing you like he never would again. For all he knew he wouldn’t, so he wanted to enjoy this moment with you while it lasted. You were kissing him with just as much fervor, and in that moment, you were regretting leaving him. Your hands found their way to his hair and took hold, and a low groan slipped out of his mouth. You loved the noises he made in moments like this, you always had. He stopped briefly to breathe, and you were suddenly struck by how beautiful he looked. Though the lack of light in the bathroom made it hard to see, you could still see his plump, kiss-swollen lips, and his beautiful brown eyes that were staring into your soul.
“You are so beautiful,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You know I’m not wearing makeup, right?”
“I know. That doesn’t change what I said. You’re beautiful. I missed telling you that, and I missed kissing you.”
“I missed kissing you, too.”
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
“What do you wanna do now?”
“Can we get coffee tomorrow? I’d really like to just talk about everything that’s happened.”
“Coffee sounds good. Can I keep kissing you?”
“Please.”
The second the word was out of your mouth; his lips were on yours again. Your hands gripped his hair tighter, and the noise he made as you did turned you on beyond belief. His hands gripped your ass again, but this time he squeezed harder. The moans that were coming out of you as you made out were like music to his ears. Both you and Chan were sure that the rest of the guys could hear you, but at this point neither of you cared. You were too lost in how it felt to kiss each other again. Eventually he pulled away, and you could tell that he wanted to ask you something. So, this time you were the first to break the silence.
“What do you want, Channie?”
“Can I please touch you?”
“Fuck, I thought you’d never ask. Please?”
“Of course, baby,” he whispered as he started to rub you over your leggings. His touch felt incredible, but you needed more. You grabbed his hand and moved it under your clothes, and he was shocked at how wet you were. Before anything else happened, he quietly asked, “Are you sure?” You nodded, so he started to gently rub your clit. As he did, his lips found their way to your neck, and you were a mess.
“Channie, feels so good, please don’t stop,” you begged as you pulled on his hair.
He let out another beautiful groan and stopped kissing your neck just long enough to whisper “I’m not stopping until you cum, baby. Do you want me to keep playing with your clit, or do you want my fingers inside you?”
“Inside, please,” you moaned, “Wanna cum around your fingers.”
“Your wish is my command, baby.” Typically, you were the one saying that to him, but tonight all he wanted was to touch you again and make you feel good. He didn’t care who was in control in that moment. So, he wasted no time inserting two fingers into you and thrusting them in and out gently. You were a whining mess before he put his fingers in, but now that he was actually fucking you, it was only a matter of time before your release. You grabbed his face and kissed him again, desperate to feel his lips on yours. The kiss only slightly muffled the moans coming from both of you, but both of you were too fucked out to care.
He started to move his fingers a bit faster, curling them perfectly to hit your sweet spots. After a few minutes of this you could feel the knot that was forming in your stomach begin to tighten. You tried to warn him that you were close, but before the words could come out your orgasm hit you like a truck. Chan kissed you while you screamed, hoping to muffle the sound a little bit, and continued to gently move his fingers in and out of you as you rode out your high.
It took you a while to recover after that, which is probably why you didn’t notice right away when Chan picked you up and carried you to his room. The lighting was soft, and the cozy feeling you had when you first entered the dorm returned. He gently placed you on his bed before lying down next to you and holding you close while you calmed down. With a gentle kiss to your forehead, he asked you if you were ok. You didn’t say anything; you just nodded.
You wanted to talk to him, but you were still having difficulty processing what had just happened. Plans for the night went out the window the second Felix told you that Chan would be watching “My Neighbor Totoro” with you, but you still didn’t expect for him to pin you to the bathroom door and make you cum with his fingers. The night’s events had left you with a lot to think about. Right now, however, you didn’t really care about the fights that had occurred between the two of you, or the late nights by yourself while he was in the studio. You missed the way his arms felt around you. You missed his laugh, and the way he smiled when he knew he was doing something that you thought was dumb. You missed your Channie.
While you pondered the past, Chan pondered the future. No one had told him that Felix invited you to watch a movie. Knowing his members, he figured that it was intentional. As he considered what had happened, he wondered if this was the beginning of a second chance. He hated the way that he treated you when you were dating. He knew that he fucked up, and he really wanted the opportunity to make it right. He hoped that one day he could explain that he had never been unfaithful to you. He hoped that one day you would allow him back into your life. He hoped that one day he would get to be the partner that you deserved.
Both of you were quiet for a while, too lost in your thoughts to acknowledge each other. Eventually, though, Chan spoke up. “What time are we getting coffee tomorrow? I’d really like to talk about what just happened, as well as a few other things.” The casual nature of his question after everything that had happened that evening made you laugh. You didn’t notice it, but when he heard your laugh, he smiled and started to tear up. “That doesn’t answer my question, (Y/N),” he said.
Once you stopped laughing, you responded by saying “How about we go whenever we wake up? I’m really tired and I really don’t want to make any more decisions tonight.”
“I understand, baby. Sleep well. I’m right here if you need anything.”
“Good night, Channie” was the last thing you said before drifting off into a peaceful sleep. Chan gently kissed your forehead again before falling asleep himself. As he slept, he had dreams of a future where he could be yours again.
Thank you so much for reading! So sorry I haven't posted any fics in a while, writer's block and depression have been kicking my ass. I am doing better, though, so right now my plan is to post new fics once a week! Next week will either be a Sungchan one shot that's been in the works for a bit or the next chapter of All I Wanted.
Once again, thank you so much to @leejenowrld for beta reading! You guys should really check out her fics if you haven't, they're incredible!
If you would like to be tagged in part 2 of this fic, part 2 of my Johnny fic, or the next chapter of All I Wanted; either comment or dm me with the username that you'd like tagged and the work that you would like to be tagged in. Once again, thanks for reading!
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prismaticpichu · 2 days
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7 Wholesome Floofcanons to Heal From Inevitable Ever Crisis Trauma ❤️
~
• Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal, playing video games together in Genesis’s apartment. It’s one of the first times where Angeal commends Genesis’s competitiveness and gives a genuine laugh at how hard his friends are going at it. He keeps “switching sides” in order to keep the healthy rivalry going, as well as a way to boost both SOLDIERs’ self-esteem while he’s at it (and also just likes hearing “ANGEAL! HOW DARE YOU ROOT FOR MY NEMESIS?”). Ofc, the tides are turned when a two v. two minigame comes up, and Genesis & Seph join forces to crush their wishy-washy cheerleader. Angeal is playfully irritated by the defeat as Gen & Seph share a best-freindsy high five <333
• Zack, unable to sleep one night, too riled up from a training session he just returned from and desperately in the mood to go on a mission. Angeal tries everything in the books from lavender fragrance to a story, but nothing seems to calm the SOLDIER down. Suddenly, Sephiroth shows up, needing to borrow something from his friend, and notices the predicament. He tells Angeal he knows what to do before going up to Zack, crouching down beside him, and whispering something in his ear. Mere seconds later, Zack is plopped into his pillow and falling asleep. As Angeal and Sephiroth leave the room, Angeal incredulously asks what Seph did. Sephiroth simply gives a soft smiles and says he told Zack he could attend a mission in his dreams <3
• Sephiroth & Genesis, teaming up to make dinner one night when Angeal is bushed after a long day. They both realize amid their act of kindness that neither of them actually know how to cook, and so the two proceed to use one of Angeal’s cookbooks. What they end up making was actually something meant for dessert, and the three of them have a good laugh as they treat themselves to a sweet potato pie for dinner. <3
• Sephiroth, falling ill while his best friends are away on a mission. He tries to convince himself that he is fine, continuing to go about his duties, but the sickness has too much of a grasp on his throat to disguise when Angeal & Gen call to check-in. Hours later, and Sephiroth finds the two SOLDIERs at his apartment door, having managed to return home a week early from their 10 day-long mission in order to take care of their friend. Sephiroth falls asleep that night with an empty bowl of soup by his side and a cold washcloth pressed against his head <3
• Zack, slowly getting tutored by Angeal about the wonderful world of botany so he can impress Aerith. Angeal even finds little printable quizzes Zack can take to test his knowledge. Zack gets perfect scores every time <3
• Zack, slowly getting tutored by Sephiroth about the wonderful world of literature so he can have something to talk about with Genesis. The man hands him a copy of Genesis’s favorite novel, the likes of which he jokingly tells Zack to read. This eventually leads to Zack & Genesis starting a book club in SOLDIER together after Zack falls into an unironic reading spree. (Genesis is impressed by Zack’s vast knowledge and Zack is honored to have to finally have the respect of one his heroes <3)
• Zack, slowly getting tutored by Genesis about the wonderful world of pomology so he can finally understand Angeal’s stories. Genesis tells him all about the history of the Dumbapple—soon followed by Zack developing a newfound appreciation and fancy for Banora White juice. Angeal’s heart does a flip every time Zack asks for a glass <3
BONUS!~
• Zack, getting through to Sephiroth in the Nibelheim library because, instead of simply grasping Sephiroth’s hand as he turns to leave, Zack does a little something else: he squeezes it. One two three. It’s something they’ve been doing for over a year now, a sign of unconditional friendship and trust. A sign that breaks the fog of Jenova’s control as the three cryptic squeezes ring their true meaning in his mind.
I love you…
(Fic coming soon! :3c)
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driftingmoonmenace · 1 month
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I binge read all 15 chapters of LDR yesterday and I'm still just
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boomerang109 · 8 months
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:D
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lem-argentum · 2 years
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the idea of an ff/xv rf4 au is really fun but i canNOT figure out which roles everyone’d have. because i think a lest-like role of “forced into acting-princehood and supposed to grow vegetables” when he hates them is really funny for noct, but also an arthur-like role of “yeah i was sent here on business but i really don’t care and i’m up for defying my dad so YOU, some stranger, can do all my princely duties instead” fits him too well to pass up. AND earthmate prom would be really cuute..
in general i think umm if prom wasn’t a protagonist he’d be like how elena is in tides of destiny, because she’s the only tinkerer-ish character i can think of? i don’t know if he’d be a blacksmith character specifically but something along those lines. i don’t THINK there are any photographer characters but i know photos DO exist so that would be a hobby of his <3 and he’d get along with monsters he’d befriend them all the time :) whether on purpose or on accident because he’s just like that <3 he comes back to town with a bunch of woolies following him n is like “uhh.. these lil guys kinda wouldn’t leave me alone, i think they’re hungry or something? so iggy if you wouldn’t mind cooking eight meals right now thennn-”
speaking of iggy i know he’d fit the butler role pretty well but i want him to do his own thing so he’d be a cook :) maybe he’d help out at the apothecary too sometimes (even though there’s not one in rf4.. apothecaries are more fun than clinics..) <3 gladio’d be a knight. simple. i.. can’t think of anything more fun for him but he’d probably be the character that teaches you about weapons n things <3
OH cindy would be a blacksmith!!! she’d be the type of character players would complain about not being romanceable but that’d actually be because she’s aroace and she’d have dialogue about it :) (your canon-game lines about being married to your work have not slipped past me cindy i know what you are.) luna would work at the flower shop (because sylleblossoms)!!! <3 maybe at a library too, since i associate her with books because of the lil pen pal book she has with noct.. maybe aranea’d be a sechs soldier who leaves after deciding she hates their goals & methods and then she’d join town and be one of the candidates and really cool an d pretty and
iris is too young to have any sort of job and gladio wouldn’t let her come on his knightly excursions but she’d hang around the restaurant with iggy a lot :> she’d totally be able to convince prom to go with her to the forests n things though, because he can’t say no to letting her explore and the way monsters ease up around him make him a safe person to be around. <3 noct would also join them sometimes and they’d both be happy about it :) <3
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strang3lov3 · 2 months
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Chevelle
Summary- (joel miller x virgin!reader) Joel figures out that you’re the one who hit his baby, his precious 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle. He needs you to make it right, but he doesn’t want your money ❤️‍🔥🍆 (5k words)
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Tags- MDNI hot girls can’t drive, implied age gap, virgin!reader, we're calling him tender dark!joel, soft!dom joel, tender dubcon (power imbalance, joel solicits sex from reader, no explicit consent but reader is into it) reader has a luscious bush, Joel walks you through handjobs, blowjobs, fingering, oral, unprotected piv, creampie, come eating, loss of virginity. Joel is clothed and reader is not.
A/N- Writing this is how I spent my spring break. Hope you love it 🩵 Thank you @noxturnalpascal for all of your help editing and your encouragement.
Based on mine and @beefrobeefcal shared prompt where we asked, "What would happen if reader damaged Joel’s vehicle?” Her fic is here and it’s one of my favorite things I’ve read!! Kiki has such a beautiful voice in her writing and I love all the details she adds to her fics.
Pawn shop by @toxicanonymity came to mind when I wrote this story and was a source of inspiration. Also worth a read, I have nothing but love for Tox’s writing 🩷
It’s late when you get off your shift at Tony’s, the shitty Italian restaurant you’ve been working at for far too long. It doesn’t pay much and you’ve considered working a new job to save up and move out of your brother’s house, but you’ve been putting that idea off for a variety of reasons. One of them being Joel. 
Joel’s your neighbor, a sexy, older man you’ve got a certain fondness for. His hair used to be more brown but it’s grayer now, same with the scruff on his face. He’s got sparkling, chocolatey eyes and a sharp nose set above a thick, downturned mustache. He always looks a little dirty when you see him, with dirt caked into his forehead wrinkles and grease smeared along his temple or his jaw. He’s always either fresh off a contracting job or working on his car. He’s got this cute little Chevy he spends his nights and weekends with, a 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle, baby blue.
Joel was one of the first people to welcome you to the neighborhood and even helped you move your stuff into your brother’s house, though helping you implies he let you do any work. Joel offered you a pop from his fridge and then took over entirely, putting both himself and your brother to work moving all of your stuff in. You didn’t lift a finger that day. 
-
You can’t seem to pull your eyes from the little green glowing letters on your dash, watching letters and numbers on the screen roll on by. 12:37 A.M. 101.9. Paper Bag - Fiona Apple.  You’re so out of it. You yawn and blink a couple of times, focusing back on the narrow roads of your neighborhood. It’s so poorly lit over here, and it doesn’t help that one of your headlights is out. Joel’s been bugging you to let him fix that, he says it’ll only take five minutes.
You turn onto your street and bam. You’re wide awake now. You just hit something. 
You hit Joel’s car. Joel’s fucking car. What the fuck is it doing on the street? He always has it safely kept in his garage. Oh dear god, the panic is setting in. This is Joel’s baby. You just hit his baby, his pride and joy. 
You can’t even bring yourself to assess the damage you’ve inflicted upon his dear Chevy. Probably dented to shit, but you don’t really wanna know. Instead, you just pull your foot off the brake, press your remote control garage door opener, then pull into your garage as you press your lips together tightly. You’re surprised and relieved to find that there’s hardly a scratch on your own car. Joel won’t know. He won’t.
The next morning, you’re sipping on your coffee as you check your mailbox. Joel’s outside his house, loading up his work truck with some tools and supplies. He waves to you and you wave back, a small stack of mail in your hand. 
“Whose mail you got today, sweetheart?” he calls to you. 
You check the names on some of the letters. “Davidsons’ and Pierces’,” you answer through a chuckle. Joel rolls his eyes and laughs. The incompetent mailman is a running joke amongst yourself, Joel, and your other neighbors. He never seems to deliver anything to the right address, so you and your neighbors are often hand delivering each other your misplaced mail.
You laugh with Joel until you notice his smile disappear. He’s narrowing his eyes on his Chevy. Your heart drops as he steps closer to the vehicle, then pinches his nose in frustration. Fuck. Joel stomps back to his work truck, haphazardly tosses something in the bed and then slams the tailgate. Yeah, he’s fucking pissed. Your neck and your face heat in shame as you quickly run back inside.
-
In the two weeks since Joel’s car was hit, he’s been working to repair it tirelessly. He’s ordered a new tail light, since whoever hit his car shattered it and he’s spent a pretty penny ordering the exact shade of baby blue paint to touch up all of the scratches. Joel only trusts himself to touch his car, but the situation necessitates that he’ll have to take it in to a local repair shop to get the dents out. Fucking fantastic. 
When Joel gets off work tonight, he notices he’s got some packages on his doorstep, hoping it’s the shit he ordered for his car. He’ll open them shortly, but he first notices that one of the packages is addressed to you. Go figure, he thinks, chuckling to himself. He walks the package over to your house, noticing your car is parked outside of the driveway. And it’s backed in too, which is odd. Joel assumes your car must’ve been blocking your brother’s, so he probably played musical chairs with your cars to get his out and then backed yours up onto the driveway. You never back your own car in the driveway, and Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you don’t know how. You probably can’t parallel park, either. He’ll have to show you how to do that sometime.
What’s also new is a bit of baby blue paint on your red Honda Civic’s exterior, right by your headlight, the same headlight he’s been nagging you to let him fix. Joel bites the inside of his cheek. Interesting. He knocks on your door, package in hand, but he’s met with no answer. No biggie. He leaves the package on your porch and goes back to your car, inspecting the paint once more. He scoffs in astonishment and walks home. Unbelievable. 
-
The next evening, you check your mailbox after forgetting to do so earlier. As always, you never have just your own mail. This time you’ve got Joel’s. You walk it over to Joel’s house with the intention of dropping it off on his porch and going back home, not wanting to bother him as he works on his Chevy but his whistle startles you. “Hey you,” he says. “C’mere.”
“O-oh,” you stutter. “I’m just dropping off your–”
“Yeah, I know. Just c’mere a minute,” Joel says. “Got a fuckin’ bone t’pick with you.”
Your palms are beginning to sweat. He doesn’t know anything. Maybe he just wants some company while he works on his car, it wouldn’t be the first time. But still, there’s something about his tone. You step off of his porch and cut through his lawn to get to his garage. Once inside, you help yourself to a root beer from his refrigerator. Something cold and fizzy and sweet to help you calm your nerves.“Oh, sure, help yourself,” Joel mumbles. He notices your fingers slipping off the tab of the pop can and pulls it from your hands, then opens it for you. He’s wearing a stained Prince and the Revolution t-shirt and a slightly too tight pair of jeans that squeeze his ass just so. His garage is decorated with old license plates, posters, other odds and ends. 
“Thank you,” you whisper. 
Joel says nothing as he walks to his work bench. He pulls a lightbulb out of a cardboard box and waves it in your direction, he’s only a couple of feet from you. “Ordered the wrong bulb,” he tells you. 
You can only nod. You think about maybe making a joke about the mailman screwing it up somehow, but you bite your tongue. You don’t trust yourself not to stutter right now.
“M’sure you saw, my baby here’s all banged up,” Joel puts the bulb back in the box and leans against his work bench, facing you. “Happened a couple weeks ago.”
“Mm,” you hum.
“Hit and run, can you believe that?” 
“No, I can’t. That-that’s terrible.”
“I know it is. And here I thought we had a nice neighborhood…” he trails off before speaking again, “You think you know someone, huh.” 
Someone. So he has someone in mind? “Yeah, it’s terrible…what happened to your car. Can’t believe someone would uh…would do that, knowing how you, your car…yeah. Terrible.”
Joel stares at you for a minute before speaking again, taking note of how you can’t seem to hold eye contact with him. He steps closer to you.
“You wouldn’t know a thing about it, right?”
“Yes,” you answer, quickly realizing your word mishap when Joel raises his eyebrows. “No, yeah. I don’t know–yeah, nothing,” you sip your root beer before fidgeting with the pop tab and shifting your weight from one foot to the other. 
Joel notices. “Squirmin’ an awful lot over there, sweetheart. You got something you wanna tell me?” You shake your head, still playing with the tab on the pop can. Joel removes it from your hand, his fingers gracing over yours before placing it on the workbench. He’s moving closer to you now, matching your pace as you walk backward until the back of your legs hit his car. You gasp, he stands so tall and imposing in front of you. “Easy,” he warns. “You be careful with her.”
“Yeah, I know. Always,” you reply. Your voice is beginning to shake. 
Joel hums at your response. “Not always, though, sweetheart. Think you were pretty careless with my baby a couple weeks ago.” 
The familiar pressure behind your eyes is beginning to build as tears are pricking your waterline, “I don’t know what–”
“Awh, don’t do that. Don’t lie t’me.” 
 The tears spill over. You’re caught. You don’t know how Joel figured out what you did, but he did. “You’ve got a guilty conscience, dontcha?”
You nod before you can speak. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. Sobs begin to wrack your body, your tears now flowing freely. You’re so guilty. You should’ve told Joel what happened that night. It was an accident, and he might’ve been mad, but you’ve probably made it worse for yourself with your dishonesty. “I’m so sorry, Joel, it was late and I was so tired–”
Joel pulls you in a tight embrace, stroking your back with his fingertips. “Shhh, I know. I know,” he whispers in your ear,  “S’okay, sweet girl.” 
“It was so…” you try to explain, choking on your sobs and your sniffles. “So late and d-dark and I wasn’t paying attention.”
“I know. Quit your cryin’, s’gonna be fine,” Joel whispers. He pulls away from you, looking at you with those deep brown eyes of his as he wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs. Know you’ll make it up to me.”
“I will,” you agree quickly. “I’ll pick up some more shifts, Joel, and I’ll save and–”
“Oh, no. Not that. Save your money,” he tells you earnestly. “Somethin’ else,” Your eyes follow Joel when he leaves you for a moment to flip a switch on the wall of his garage. Something in the air changes then, a thick, heavy feeling between you both when he makes his way back to you. “Use your head, sweetheart. How are we gonna make it right?”
Your mouth is dry, your tongue swollen as you pick up what Joel’s putting down. “Let me give ya a hint,” Joel grunts, sucking in his gut slightly as he unbuttons his jeans. He wears no underwear, a thatch of coarse hair littering his skin is what you see when he pulls down his zipper. He grips your wrist and shoves your hand beneath the denim where you feel his package, already half hard. It’s warmer, thicker than you would expect. He feels heavy in your palm, his pubic hair wiry and scratchy against your knuckles. 
He doesn’t tilt his head in confusion at your hesitancy. “Don’t know what to do with all this, do ya?”
You shake your head no. “I’ve never…with anyone, before.”
“S’alright. I’ll walk ya through it all,” Joel says, seemingly unsurprised at the revelation. With your hand still on his cock, Joel pulls himself out of his jeans entirely. He’s harder now. “Like this,” he instructs, bringing your hand to his mouth and spitting in it. A pang of arousal fills your gut at the action. He pushes your hand lower and guides you to wrap your hand around his cock. It feels heavy, warm to the touch, sticky with his sweat and his saliva. Rock hard, but smooth like satin. You admire him, his blushed tip, the prominent veins on his shaft. 
Your breath hitches as Joel takes control, using his strong, weathered hand to guide your own to massage his cock. “You got it,” he encourages, sensing your rigidity. “Tighter,” he instructs, squeezing his hand around yours. You’re slow to gain confidence but he’s patient, doing the work himself for now. “You move your hand all the way up, all the way down my cock,” he tells you. 
You nod in understanding. Joel drops his hand but yours stays stroking his member. He sighs and tilts his head backward as you focus on the task at hand. Without the pressure of intense eye contact, you take the opportunity to admire him, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the small drops of sweat rolling down his throat. You’re shy when he smiles at you, quickly averting your attention from him and to his cock, watching the way it twitches beneath your hand, where a little bead of precum forms. Experimentally, you swipe your thumb over the tip. “That’s it,” he whispers, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. He ruts his hips into your hips, “Doin’ just fine.”
You stroke his cock like this for a while, gaining confidence in yourself until he stops you suddenly.
 “Is that it?” 
“Is that it,” Joel mocks with a feigned pout. “No, hon. You banged up my baby pretty good. We ain’t quite square yet.”
His leaking cock bounces against his tummy as he approaches his work bench. Your heart pounds as you can’t quite see what he’s reaching for. “Know it’s new to ya,” he says.  “Just listen to me, s’all you gotta do.”
Joel returns to you with a dirty rag in his hand and lays it on the concrete ground, then reaches for your face. He pulls your bottom lip down and lets it go to watch it bounce back up. “Knees,” he whispers, gently pushing you by your shoulders to the ground. The rag he laid on the concrete for your knees is a sweet touch, all things considered. His cock is inches away from your face as he holds it between his thumb, middle, and forefingers. He presses himself to your lips, encouraging you to open your mouth. “Give it a taste,” he instructs you. “An’ you can kiss it too, if you’re feelin’ amorous.” 
You part your lips and tentatively lick the weeping slit of his thick head just once. After a moment, taking in the saltiness of his precome, you lick him a couple more times, gaining confidence quicker than you did using just your spit soaked hand on him. Bigger stripes now, using more pressure. Like Joel advised, you kiss his cock a couple times, each kiss sloppier than the last before swirling your tongue around the tip. You’re learning it all, the softness of his skin, his musky, heady taste. 
“Give me your hand,” Joel says. “Goes right here,” He wraps your hand around the base of his cock, same as before. He places one of his hands on your head, guiding you closer to him, encouraging you to take him deeper now. You do as such, sputtering and choking when you get overzealous and take him too quickly.
Joel chuckles, “Not all at once, sweetheart. Go slow. Try it again.” This time, Joel controls the pace at which you take him. He pushes himself into your mouth and senses when it becomes too much, pauses for you. He pulls his hips back, then rocks back into your mouth, building a slow, shallow pace for you to get used to. 
He’s pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. His tip teases the back of your throat as he whispers, “Little more. Be brave,” You gaze up at him, searching his eyes for some sort of approval. He nods with his brows furrowed. “Do it for me, hon.”
You allow him to fuck himself deeper in your mouth now, your eyes pricking with tears as you gag and sputter on his cock. This time, Joel doesn’t stop himself. He’s grunting, groaning, savoring the warmth of your wet, soft mouth. “So good,” he tells you before tapping your hand, reminding you to put it to use.
What you can’t reach with your mouth, you massage with your hand as you cup his balls with your other. You and Joel work in tandem, him drawing in and out of your mouth as you bob your head and flick your tongue against his shaft. Your jaw is sore with the newness of it all, and just as you’re becoming used to the thickness of his cock between your lips and on your tongue, he pauses. “M’gonna stop you now,” Joel mumbles as he pulls out of your mouth, his eyes focused on your swollen lips and how the string of saliva connected from them to his cock breaks. “S’your turn.”
“My turn?”
“Mhm. It’s etiquette, hon,” Joel says with a grunt, lifting you to your feet. He reaches between your bodies and unbuttons your pants, pushing both them and your underwear down your legs. “Always return the favor.” Joel lifts you slightly, sitting your bare ass on the hood of his car, then pulls your pants off your legs the rest of the way. “Arms up,” he tells you. He lifts your shirt off of your body, unhooks your bra and lets it fall to your lap. You’ve never been so vulnerable, so exposed in front of someone before.  Instinctively, you cover your chest with your arms and cross your legs. 
“You’re shy,” he whispers. Joel drapes your clothing over his shoulder before reaching for your arms, removing them from your chest and placing them on either side of your body. “Stay like this,” He holds your knees next, uncrossing your legs and spreading them wide for his view. 
Joel takes in your body and admires your wet cunt, how your thick curls frame it beautifully. A shiver goes down your spine as his eyes scan the rest of your body before he holds intense eye contact with you as he folds your clothes, placing them in a neat pile next to you on his car. You watch his chest rise and fall with steady breaths as he drops to his knees, situating himself between your thighs.
He presses a sloppy kiss against your inner knee, then another on your other leg. He kisses his way up your inner thigh, nipping at your flesh and soothing the marks with his tongue. He holds your legs firmly apart, knowing your instinct is to shut them when he reaches your cunt, his hot breath fanning over your center. “Wider,” he whispers, “I gotcha.”
The once cool metal of Joel’s car is now hot and slick under your sweaty, trembling palms. Your pulse beats as you look up at the garage ceiling, lacking the courage to look at Joel between your thighs. “Relax for me,” he tells you. You try. 
You gasp when he finally begins exploring you, first his thumb parting open your folds. Adding a couple more digits, he hums in satisfaction as he finds you’re already wet, your slick glistening on his fingers. He dips one of those fingers inside of you slowly, watching how you react to his touch. You twitch and fight to keep yourself still and silent as he adds a second finger, curling it rhythmically and stroking that sweet spot inside you. 
“Oh, god,” you moan as he dives into your cunt, the soft and warm, private place between your thighs, his mouth now joining where his fingers touch. His tongue is hot and wet as he drags it through your sex, circling your clit with it. “Joel, please.”
Joel’s satisfied as he hears sounds of pleasure fall from your lips, feeling your hips bucking and grinding gently against his mouth. He sucks one fold, nips at the other as he curls his fingers inside you rhythmically. With the hand that’s not teasing your pussy, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh. “Quit squirmin’ on my car,” he warns with a firm squeeze to your thigh, hard enough to bruise you. “Ya tryin’ to scratch her again?”
His wiry stubble drags across your skin, scratching gently against the inside of your thighs. You can feel it building up quickly, that hot, sparkling feeling deep in your core as he works you, sucks your clit between his lips. 
“Please,” you cry, the only word you can form at the moment. 
“I know, hon,” he murmurs, escalating his efforts on your pussy. Sucking, licking, curling his fingers harder. He works you through your orgasm, feeling you gush against his mouth, your arousal dripping down his fingers and pooling into the palm of his hand. Your hands fly to his scalp, twitching and jerking from the sensitivity with your fingers tugging on his curls when he licks a stripe up the seam of your cunt. 
Joel pulls away from your center with a satisfied grin, lips shiny, his facial hair damp. He rises, standing above you, and sloppily kisses your lips. You’ve never tasted your own arousal before. His strong hands find your ass cheeks, pulling you closer to where he wants you.
From there, you gasp when he slides his cock through your slick folds, rubbing thick head against your sensitive clit and watches how you react to his touch. “What do you think I’m doin’ to ya next?”
“Joel,” you whimper, your hips chasing his movements, following where his cock teases your cunt. 
“Yeah, you know what I’m doin,” he purrs. “Crossin’ it all off your list tonight.”
You tense when he notches just the head of his cock in your pussy, reaching for his arm, his shoulder, any part of him you can hold. 
“Know you’re nervous,” he says softly, rubbing circles into your thighs. “But s’just me an’ you here. Wider, hon. Spread your legs for me.”
You nod quickly, following suit and spreading your legs to accommodate him. “Like this?”
“Yeah, like that. S’perfect, hon, that���s all I need from you. C’mere,” Joel adjusts his hold on you before inching his cock into you a bit more. You’re so tight, squeezing him hard and whining through the stretch as he pushes into you further, the gradual slide inside your body causing him to grunt quietly. “Relax for me,” he groans through a strained breath, parting your insides as he’s sheathed himself inside you fully now. “Bite me f’ya need to, sweetheart. It’ll be okay. You’ll get used to it.”
It aches, but the pain dulls as Joel lets you get used to the feeling, the newness of his cock inside you. He holds you close and you take advantage of his suggestion, biting softly into the flesh of his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin as you whimper quietly. Joel groans, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Shh,” he hushes, “You’re okay, hon. You’re doin’ alright.”
Joel slowly pulls out of you and fills you up again. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he praises as you tilt your hips, opening yourself to accept more of him. You’re humming into his neck as his cock recedes and then pushes in once more. “Eyes on me now. There it is, easy. Easy.”
You do as instructed, pulling your face away from him to meet his gaze. His sparkling brown eyes stay on yours as he pulls out of you, pushing into you slowly, deliberately. You hold onto his neck, his broad shoulders, clutching the fabric of his sweat dampened shirt as he builds a steady pace now. He holds you close to his body, one of his hands traveling up your body and groping your bouncing breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples.
“You just follow my lead,” Joel says, fucking you faster now. His fingers are pressed firmly into your waist now as he rolls his hips against yours. The pain is gone now, dissipated with his continued languid thrusts into you. You feel so full, so satisfied with his thick cock inside you, massaging your insides.
He fucks you steadily but gently, maintaining a quick rhythm. You didn’t know sex could make you feel this way, so much pleasure.  You’re moaning freely, overwhelmed with emotion, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. God, you love it, and it’s nothing but pure pleasure. 
Joel’s not oblivious to your enjoyment. He’s watching you, your face contorting, he’s listening to your moans and your cries, feeling you shiver and twitch beneath his touch and how it’s all because of him, all of your pleasure at the hands of Joel and only ever Joel. He feels a sort of carnal sense of power over this, the effect his touch has on you. You’re soft, so soft and all for him, your flesh for his hands and his teeth alone to squeeze, dig into, to bite on. 
You reach for his arm and guide his hand to your center, pressing his fingers against your clit as that familiar tightness in your gut begins to build once more. “Please,” you beg. 
“Thought this was supposed to be a deal for me. Didn’t need to hit my car f’ya needed me like this,” he taunts, laughing breathlessly. But Joel obliges, of course he obliges you. He moves his calloused fingertips in circles over your clit, coaxing out your release. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. Look at you, m’gonna make you come again. Makin’ out like a fuckin’ bandit, aren’t you?”
Indeed you are. It’s not long before you’re coming for him. With his ministrations on your clit, his thrusts now faster, harder, deeper, you’re coming undone for him as his name pours from your lips, long and slow like honey. With your lips parted open, you’re twitching and shuddering against him as you watch his face, letting yourself go. You whimper and moan, and your release is volcanic in the way it washes over your body so fiercely. Heavy, vivid waves of pleasure washing over you the way lava rolls down the earth. Slow, fiery, intense.
Your pulsing cunt milks Joel’s own climax, his orgasm crashing through him in such a way that he loses focus on you. His eyes screwed shut, the noises he’s making louder than he intended–what starts as a grunt turns into a moan, long and libertine as he fucks you harder than he probably should as you whimper in overstimulation. His thrusts turn harder and frenzied as he milks himself with your cunt, spurting hot ropes of his come inside you. You take everything he gives you, feeling so warm and full of his spend. 
His movements then begin to ease, slowing down some more until he eventually stills inside of you. He takes the quiet moment to check on you, holding your face in his hands as he makes sure you’re okay. Your chest heaves as he wipes your tears, but you silently nod, reassuring him that you’re alright.
With a soft grunt, he pulls out of you. He watches how your combined arousal spills on the baby blue paint of his Chevelle, then uses his thumb to push a bit of his escaped come back inside you. Such a lewd action from the man. 
Joel helps you to your feet, steadying you as you stand on shaky legs. He reaches for your clothes from the hood of his car, helping you dress yourself. “Didn’t want ‘em to get dirty,” he explains. “Everything’s covered in fuckin’ dirt and grease in here.”
“Thank you,” you smile shyly. Joel opens the garage door, the once peachy and blue sky now inky black. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You take off back to your house, but Joel grips your bicep before you can step any further. 
 “Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Ya already hit my car, hon, you don’t wanna leave your mess on the hood now too, do ya?” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on the hood of his Chevelle, swipes his pointer finger through the mess and pushes it between your lips. Your brows furrow at the taste, that salty, heady flavor you’ve never tasted before now. “Use your tongue, sweetheart.”
“You want me…”
“Lick it up,” he instructs in a quiet voice. Joel figured he might’ve let you off too easy, seeing as how you came twice–once on his tongue and once on his cock when this was all supposed to be for him. He bends you over the hood of his car, groping your ass as he leans over your shoulder to inspect your work, making sure it’s a job well done. “Good girl,” he praises, watching you lick his car clean. When you’re done, he kisses you softly.
He walks you home, dropping you off on your doorstep. You’re not quite sure what to say, whether you should apologize again, thank him, say goodnight. Joel fills the silence for you. “Gonna teach you how to drive right one of these days. Keep you out of another mess like this one, hm?” he smirks as he kisses your cheek. “Goodnight, hon.”
If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a comment, and/or send an ask 🩷 your words mean the world to me and your interaction keeps me motivated to write. Love you all <3
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From now on I’ll be sharing cat pics at the end of my fics. Hope you don’t mind 🐈‍⬛😻
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foreverdolly · 1 month
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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 3 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』
summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.
warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. ( need to edit this later because I'm exhausted right now)
word count: 3.5k
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If the intruder had made another noise then hadn’t been able to hear it. Not over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. Dread washed over you, the blood in your veins turning to ice as you were struck with a sudden realization: 
Either you fought for your life, here and now. . . or you died. 
Your throat locked up, and suddenly you found yourself unable to say anything at all. Shouldn’t you be screaming like a madwoman? Had he seen you undress for the night? Had he been lurking in a corner or a closet as your attendants had run your bath? Was everybody in on this? 
Every nervous smile and antsy movement came rushing back to you. Betrayal slapped you in the face so hard that it stunned you back into motion. 
The knife that you had hidden away in your room after breakfast was shorter than you would have liked- minimal reach, meaning you’d have to get up close to the attacker. Still, you somehow managed to kick the sheets off of you in order to lurch to the side before he was able to brandish his own blade. You heard it cut through the air, the loud tearing of the pillow where your head had just been perched a millisecond ago echoed through the pitch black room. 
You moved towards the door, bare feet against ice cold marble, and finally began to open your mouth to scream for whatever guards were sure to be stationed near the guest quarters. 
“I wouldn’t bother,” The man’s voice sneered, a smile evident in his voice. “No one will save you.” 
There it was. The truth. 
Everyone hated you, but you already knew as much. There was very little you could do in your nightdress- no way you could properly fend off an attacker without any shoes on your feet. Even worse, you had no shield. 
“Why are you doing this?” You questioned, raising the knife so that you were holding it defensively in front of you. You hated how pathetic you sounded with your voice shaking like that. Still, your hands held strong. 
Under immense trauma and stress like this your body had gone into autopilot. Again and again your training has been hammered into you. You must remain calm. Act with surety. 
Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. 
You waited, listening to see if he was getting close to you. The bed creaked, the attacker stepping into a single ray of silver light that had escaped through the blinds.
 It was a guard. 
So this was planned. You should have known enough. You would have thought that Feyd would have been the one to orchestrate the whole thing, but his earlier warning had made it clear to you that he hadn’t wanted you to perish. At least not like this. 
He didn’t say anything else to you before his arm came barrelling down. You stepped to the side, almost tripping over the fabric of your dress in your panic. The cutter blade struck the wall behind you, and in the man’s blind fury he left his side completely defenseless. You surged forward, the knife tightly clutched in your hand, and brought it down hard on his arm. He cried out, the sound nearly deafening you as it echoed off of the empty walls. 
“You bitch!” His weapon clung against the ground. 
Still, his uninjured arm struck against the side of your face. The world tilted beneath you as you stumbled backwards, your spine cracking against the dresser drawer as your knees buckled beneath you. Pain. It felt like he had just drilled a hole clean into the side of your face. No one had ever landed a blow to you like that. The guard took advantage of your stunned state, moving forward so that he could wrap his meaty hands around your throat. 
You needed to use the Voice. He had to stop. . . but his hands were squeezing too tightly. Your lips moved but little more than fearful croaks escaped you. Tears pooled in your eyes at the pressure, at the pain, at the fucking fear that was threatening to swallow you up whole, whole, whole until you were nothing. Your nails scrapped against any bit of skin that you could find. He hissed in pain, using the weight of your own body against you as he slammed you against the dresser where he currently had you pinned. 
You kicked out your legs, desperately trying to find a foothold so that you could wrench yourself upwards. If you were in pants then you might have been able to save yourself, but your bare feet slid out against the loose fabric pooled underneath you. The man had struck when you had been most vulnerable. He was killing you. 
Your eyes widened, the tears finally spilling past the thick wall of your lower lashes. He was killing you. He was killing you. He was killing you. 
With the ringing filling your ears, you hadn’t heard the commotion outside of your door. Only when it slammed open, light from the hall flooding in, did you realize that someone had been alerted. The hands around your throat loosened just enough for you to take a deep, wheezing breath in. 
“Help me.” But you couldn’t reach the correct frequency, not when your vocal cords were so damaged. 
Still, with bleary eyes you stared up at whoever’s large form filled the doorway. Begging them to save you. 
And so they did. 
The world just fell away, like ink on wet paper- it all bled around him. All sound and sight ebbed away, the only thing visible in his rage being your tear filled eyes. Feyd had seen looks of pure terror on the faces of men he had bested countless times before. It never meant much to him. The lives he had taken never weighed heavy on his shoulders. He never cared much for anything aside from his own ambitions. He had goals- found minor joy in sharpening his mind and his blades. 
 He had carried his memories of you from childhood with him into adulthood, each glance and nervous smile acted as a balm that soothed any future traumas or worries. He knew that one day he would be standing exactly where he was right then, with you within arms length. 
This wasn’t what he had pictured throughout the years though. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was currently witnessing. 
Women bled the same as men did. He never felt overly-noble when it came to protecting them, no matter how weak or frail they looked. Feyd understood that it was survival of the fittest. People lost their lives every day in much crueler ways than suffocation. . . 
But the guard had his hands around your throat, and in that moment Feyd no longer saw the proud woman that had managed to nearly knock him off of his feet earlier. No, in that moment you looked just like that six year old little girl he had always cared for so dearly. You looked exactly how he had left you- scared, fragile and innocent. 
Feyd-Rautha wasn’t quite sure what love was, but he could imagine that it must be what he felt for you. Losing you was an impossibility, he’d never let it happen. He couldn’t. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” 
An eerie sort of calm befell the room, the only sounds being your shaky breaths as you tried to fill your aching lungs with air. The guard didn’t answer him, only stared with fearful eyes up at the Na-Baron. He was looking Death right in the face. 
“Was it your idea to attack her in the middle of the night like this?” Feyd took another step into the room, which had the guard scooting back awkwardly on his knees. “You were going to kill her in the dark like she was no better than an animal.” 
He hadn’t even been brave enough to face you with the lights on. 
Feyd, without turning around, used his foot to close the door behind him. Once again the room plummeted into pitch black darkness. There was a shuffling sound in front of him, the man trying to get to his feet as fast as he could to put some distance between the two of them, but it was too late. Feyd followed the source of the noise and reached out, grabbing the man around the stomach before sinking his blade deep into his neck. A sick wet gurgling noise caused you to let out a small cry. Still, the blue eyed man wouldn’t be offput by your disgust. 
He had to pay for what he did to you. 
And so he dislodged the knife easily, the sharp blade gliding through muscle and skin, and then stabbed again. And again. And again. The guard moaned in pain, trying his hardest to buck and fight Feyd off of him. Even when the man’s legs gave out from under him Feyd followed him, falling to his knees so that he could continue his ruthless assault. 
The Na-Baron grit his teeth, eyes wide as his knife continued to find purchase in the corpse beneath him. The bastard had caused you to suffer. He had hurt you. Feyd didn’t stop there either. He stood up and made his way out into the hallway. 
The rage had made a home somewhere deep in his chest. He didn’t know what to do with so much anger. He needed. . . he needed to make everyone atone for what they had done to you. Did they think that he would approve of their lame assassination attempt? 
“You heard everything and did nothing!” He screamed out at the other guards who stood in the hallway. 
His hands were coated in blood, his black shirt and night pants soaked through, clinging to his skin. All they could do was watch him, unable to say anything at all. Feyd knew that they could not deny his claims. They had all been in on this from the start. 
And so he raised his blade again and did not stop until every man in the hallway was long-dead. 
Not a word had been said since the incident. You didn’t even complain when Feyd had all but dragged you through the halls, rather you followed him as emotionless as a doll. The blood of the fallen marred your arms and crisp white nightdress. It was as if your body had gone into auto pilot. Your mind was lost to you, as you felt as though you were floating off somewhere far away. You no longer existed at all. 
You were just a hollow shell now, in a state of shock that had you shutting down completely. 
Where was he taking you? You didn’t know, nor did you particularly care anymore. 
The guard’s final breaths had sounded wet, probably due to the blood in his lungs. The blade hitting bone. His moans of pain. Those sounds still echoed in your ears, and you were positive that you’d never be able to get them out of your head. 
You’d never witnessed anything like that in all of your life. Someone had been killed mere feet away from you. And yet you weren’t sorry for him. You searched yourself for even an inkling of pity and came up short. The bastard got what he deserved. 
“Why did you have to do that in front of me?” You managed to mumble out. 
Tonight would soon become a memory that would never abandon you. Even in old age you were certain that you would be able to recall every gut wrenching detail of tonights events. When the door leading out to the doorway had opened and illuminated the room, Feyd’s sins had been revealed in full to you. 
The guard was unrecognizable. He no longer looked human to you, his insides turned out. Your betrothed had quite literally gutted your attacker in front of you. 
Your bare feet tracked blood on the floors, the long skirts of your nightgown soaked with another man’s blood. 
“I killed him for you. I wanted you to experience every moment of retribution.” He didn’t turn around to face you as he spoke. Instead he kept his eyes on the hallway, the pupils of his pale blue eyes blown out wide. 
You cast a look down at the hand that was holding your arm in a vice-like grip. He was shaking. It was almost as though he could feel your eyes on his hand. His trembling fingers dug into your soft skin. 
Feyd released you once the two of you were alone in a room together, closing the door behind him and locking it for good measure. You stood there, motionless as you followed the line of his jaw with your eyes. The muscle there ticked a few times as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. He was still agitated, you could tell. 
“You’re starting to bruise.” He motioned towards his own neck. 
Your hand flew up to your throat, poking at the tender skin. It felt hot under your touch- sore too. It would serve as a reminder of how close you had come to death. Tonight you felt nothing. . . but what about tomorrow? Would you ever be able to sleep again? 
“How did you know that I was being attacked?” Your suspicion was beginning to build back up again. There were just too many coincidences. 
“You think I had something to do with this?” He sounded agitated. There was no hint of his usual sarcastic lilt in his tone. 
You’d never seen Feyd like this before. He actually seemed. . . offended but your gentle accusation. 
“You can’t answer my question with yet another question. How did you know I was being attacked?” You might have been in a state of immense shock but you still had some wits about you. 
You were locked in a room with a murderer, and the possibility that he had a hand in your assassination attempt was high. Once again you found yourself utterly defenseless. If he tried to attack you now there was no way that you’d be able to defend yourself. Not only that but your throat was wrecked. You could barely talk at the current moment, meaning you couldn’t even depend on the Voice if you needed to. You were as helpless as a child in the wake of Feyd’s power. 
“I see you in my dreams sometimes.” 
Anyone else would have called him insane, but you were used to Paul’s dreams. They’d been getting even more vivid as he aged. So Feyd had a dream that you were in danger? You found it difficult to believe that he would go out of his way to come to your rescue. Still, here he was. 
“Is that why you warned me today at breakfast?” The pieces were finally beginning to fall into place. He’d known something was going to happen since last night. 
“Yes,” He tilted his head, seemingly deep in thought. “Something told me to go and see you.” 
You didn’t have it in yourself to question him further. You’d have to be satisfied with his answers. What you really wanted was a bath and a fresh change of clothes. One last look at your soiled clothes had your nose wrinkling in disgust. The smell of blood was thick in your nose- so strong that the iron scent almost smelled sweet. You gagged outwardly, putting your hands on your knees as you suddenly dry heaved. 
“You realize that he couldn’t be left alive after what he had done, don’t you?” 
Of course you did. That didn’t make it any better though. Your fingers stuck together, caked in blood, as you balled them into fists at your sides. 
“Bath.” Was all you said, already looking around the room that you assumed was his living quarters for any sign of a tub. 
He didn’t make any complaints as you closed the bathroom door behind yourself. Feyd gave you the time to process everything, didn’t knock on the door even once as the minutes ticked by. You stayed in the water until your fingers pruned and rubbed your skin until it was raw. Blood was everywhere. Under your nails, between your toes- it had even soaked through your dress and now caked your lower legs and thighs. 
You threw on a thin cotton robe you found neatly folded on a small towel rack, tying it tightly around your waist before you built up the courage to face your fiance again. 
“Take me back to my room.” You were eager to fall asleep. 
You’d been through too much. The thought of having to be conscious was tiring in itself. If you could close your eyes and sleep for the next ten years then you would. 
You missed your home. You missed your parents and Paul. You missed stability and security. Your life felt lost to you now. 
“This is your room now.” He was laying on the bed, already in a change of clothes. He seemingly took a bath himself while you had locked yourself away. There was no trace of gore left on him now. 
Your mouth went dry, palms pooling with sweat. Surely you were understanding him incorrectly. 
“You can’t expect me to sleep in the same room with you. We aren’t married.” There was absolutely no way your parents would approve of something like this. 
“I don’t trust anyone besides myself with your safety.” 
You didn’t trust anyone. Especially not Feyd. 
“Why should I be expected to sleep with you? I don’t feel comfortable-” 
“I will kill anyone that lays a finger on you again. Let that pile of bodies act as a warning to anyone else that tries. That’s why you should be expected to stay here with me. Get in the bed.” He seemed tired. Aggitated. 
“No.” You held strong. Never in your life had you slept in the same room as a man, let alone someone like Feyd-Rautha. He’d sooner kill you in your sleep then anyone else would. 
“Come here.” His tone caused you to jump. 
You had to bite your tongue as you approached him, sitting down awkwardly on the bed before you finally succumbed to his wishes. The bed was softer than your own, which you immediately envied. The soft mattress enveloped you, and all at once the tiredness you hadn’t felt until then finally sank in. 
You didn’t put up much more of a fight. Your eyes were beginning to close on their own accord. Feyd was watching you, turned on his side so that he could get a better look at you. It was then, for the first time ever, that you fully noted how beautiful he was. Up close like this he was even more striking. Blue eyes, full lips and pale, flawless skin. 
One thing that went unnoticed by you was the fact that Feyd didn’t turn the lights off. 
Without having to ask. . . he didn’t turn the lights off. 
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ೃ࿔ savage bonds taglist:
@elf-punk @shitfuckeryclownverse @mydarlingelvis @heartarianagran @ohdearmaggie @chalametism @killingboredom @obsessedvibee @avidreader73 @softboo @tedcruzumakii @luminnara @narniansmagic @torchbearerkyle @ziggy-stardust-world @tian-monique @adoxra @zz-snow-zz @tiredsleepyhead @icontrolthespice @itsparksjoyhuh @verveta345 @shegatsby @zae5 @ertepla @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @lotus-888 @meetmeatyourworst @moonchild-artemisdaughter @abswifey @flower-frog @auroranodyssey @forgedfromthestars @moony-artemis @juliskopf @moonsoulk @serrendiipty @atrxidxs @the-ruler-of-death @mintoblobo @just-pure-trash @randominterwebthings @springholland @so-dramatic1 @ashy-kit @aslutforscarletwitch99 @sofia-013 @gamorxa @ricecakeslove @alexandrainlove @selfishlittlebeing @ceres27
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wyvernest · 6 months
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imagine >
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moving into a new city with no friends and family around. having to find your place in an entirely new space and into new people's lives.
neighbour!miguel being so sweet and caring, but also flirtatious and serious when time is best. offering to help you with just anything; driving you to work because you just moved in & are getting acquainted with the city, getting groceries for you when you're sick and/or tired, occasionally even bringing you flowers in the mornings.
neighbour!miguel smiling so sweetly when he sees you at his door at 11 p.m. on a friday night, asking for his help with your new furniture instead of being out and having fun.
neighbour!miguel walking through your apartment door, so happy to help you and spend even as much as a few more minutes around you. and it all feels so domestic and serene; seeing him in his home clothes, just a navy blue t-shirt and sweatpants, in your own private, intimate space.
neighbour!miguel not even asking for your help because he doesn't want you to lift a finger, or worse, get splinters stuck in your delicate fingers. frankly, he wants and likes to show off to you. he relishes in the opportunity to show you how strong he is, how he can effortlessly put everything in place. and sincerely, you do enjoy the show.
you enjoy seeing his arms flex when he lifts the entire underside of the ikea sofa so he could turn it around and continue with the instructions; yet his face shows zero struggle. no holding his breath, no pants of exhaustion. he knows exactly what he's doing, and he only needs to look over the pages a few times before he arranges the whole thing like he designed it.
neighbour!miguel secretly even taking longer than necessary to set the screws just to have you look at him with such admiration. maybe you might even begin to like him the way he likes you. he has no idea the only thing you wish you could do was to kiss him and let him put his arms around you, to reward him for how good he's been to you.
neighbour!miguel whose heart races as you gently kiss his cheek as he's working, gazing into his eyes with that look he knows all too well. but eventually you grow bolder, seeing no resistance from him; only satisfaction and a hint of sugar sweet surprise.
neighbour!miguel who can't help it but drop the screws and keys to grab you as you keep teasingly kissing him all over his face; one arm secured around your back, one around your middle, finally returning the kisses he had long coveted to give you.
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divider by @cafekitsune
a/n: should i continue???? will miguel break the bed he just made???? poor miguel
also im posting that back massage fic soon too i just gotta make up my mind ab a couple things💀
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